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72. 


808.8 

No. SI 

Library  of  the 
University  of  North  Carolina 


Endowed  by  the  Dialectic  and  Philan- 
thropic Societies 


EXTENSION  DIVISION 

Cop.   I 


23. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/halloweenfestivi31sche 


WERNER'S 

Readings  and  Recitations 
No.  31 


Halfotoe'm  JFcsttbittes 


STANLEY     SCHELL 


«~&i 


^ 


NEW  YORK 

EDGAR  S.  WERNER  &  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1903,  by  Edgar  S.  Werner 


General  Alphabetical  Index. 


PAGE 

After-Supper  Sports,  Games,  Mysteries. — Stanley  Schell 47 

Alphabet  Game '. . .  .40 

Apple  Paring 42 

Apple-Pip  Test 41 

Apple    Seeds    42 

Apple   Seeds 56 

Apples  and  Flour 41 

Apples   for    Hallowe'en    80 

Around  the  Walnut  Tree_._. 51 

At  Candle-Lightin'  Time.— Paul   Laurence  Dunbar 131 

Baby  Show    58 

Backsliding  Brother. — Frank  L.   Stanton  . 179 

Barrel    Hoop    39 

Blind  Nut  Seekers    40 

Bowls    (Luggies)    35 

Broomstick  Train:  Or  Return  of  the  Witches. — O.  W.  Holmes  167 

Candle  and  Apple  39 

Cellar    Stairs 35 

Chestnuts    . . , 81 

Chicken  Salad  Rolls 58 

Cider    Flip    59 

Clever   Matchmakers. — Beatrice    Rice 27 

College    Colors 35 

Colored  Dancing  Match. — Frank  L.  Stanton 16? 

Combing  Hair  before   Mirror 57 

Conundrum    Nuts    79 

Courtin'. — James    Russell    Lowell 163 

Cupid's  Time 42 

Cyniver    40 

Dance  of  the  Dead. — Goethe 192 

Dance  Program  for  Ghost  Dance. — Stanley  Schell 61 

Dances,  Drills,  Marches .24,  26,    60 

Decorations     15,    65 

Decorations  for  Serving  Supper. — Stanley  Schell  45 

Don  Squixet's  Ghost. — Harry  Bolingbroke 128 

Dough    Test    3 , 40 

Dreamer 55 

Drills,  Marches,  Dances    24,  26,    60 

Dry    Bread 56 

Ducking   for   Apples    , 52 

Elf-Child— James  Whitcomb  Riley 147 

Enchanted  Shirt.— John   Hay 148 

2 


GENERAL  ALPHABETICAL  INDEX  3 

PAGE 

Entertainments. — Stanley  Schell 11 — 120 

Fagot  Ghost  Stories    48 

Famous   Ghosts    95 

Feather    Tests    36 

Fortune  Balls    81 

Fortune   Cake    59,  78 

Fortune  Slips. — Stanley  Schell   79 

Fortune  Telling  48,  79,  82 

Fortune  Telling  with  Dominoes    82 

Four   Saucers    42 

Fried  Cakes  59 

Game   of   Fate    49 

Games    35 — 59 

Games  and  Mysteries  for  Early  Evening 35 

Ghoses. — James  D.  Corrothers   134 

Ghoses  in  the  Barn. — Lu  B.  Cake 189 

Ghost  Dance   60 

Ghost  of  a   Flower    128 

Ghos'   Stories. — Flavia   Rosser    127 

Ghost.  Stories   83—116,  128,  136 

Ghost  Story  Party. — Stanley  Schell   83 

Ghostly    Pantomimes 76 

Ghosts. — Henry   W.    Longfellow    156 

Ghosts. — Thomas  Carlyle 187 

Goblin  Parade  26 

Goblins    186 

Grandpa's  Hallowe'en. — Carroll   Prescon    176 

Grape    Pudding 58 

Guess  Who    37 

Hallowe'en    (an   essay). — Stanley   Schell    11 

Hallowe'en     143 

Hallowe'en. — Carrie  Stern  146 

Hallowe'en. — Madison    Cawein    143 

Hallowe'en. — L.  Fidelia  Wooley  Gillette   145 

Hallowe'en    Cheer    155 

Hallowe'en  Entertainment 65 — 81 

Hallowe'en   Festivities'   Decorations    15,  65 

Hallowe'en    German    61 

Hallowe'en   Invitation   Forms    17,  65 

Hallowe'en   Pie    80 

Hallowe'en  Program. — Stanley  Schell   22,  67 

Hallowe'en    Recitations    121 — 192 

Hallowe'en   Souvenir   Game    40 

Hallowe'en  Supper. — Stanley  Schell   58 

Hiding  Ring,  Thimble,  and  Penny   35 

His    Father's    Ghost    Ill 

Home  Tests  for  Hallowe'en   53 

Howling  of  the  Witches. — Charles  J.  Leland 190 

Invitation    Forms    17,  65 

Jack-o'-Lantern. — Thomas   N.  Weaver    192 

Jack-o'-Lantern  Illustrations    11,  15,  123 

Jimmy  Butler  and  the  Owl  116 


WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31 


PAGE 

Jumping  Lighted   Candle    35 

Launching  Boats  43 

Lay  of  the   Irish  Famine. — Rosa  Mulholland 174 

Lover's  Test   50 

Lucky   Charms 62 

Macbeth's  Fortune. — Stanley  Schell  70 

Magic  Stairs 50 

Mammy's  Luck  Charm  fer  de  Bride. — Martha  S.  Gielow 178 

March  to  Supper. — Stanley  Schell 43 

Marches,  Drills,  Dances 24,  26,    60 

Melon  Cream 58 

Melting  Lead 52 

Menu    (suggestive) 44 

Mirror    52 

Mirror   and   Apple    55 

Miss  Russell's  Ghost  104 

Most   Remarkable  Vision   110 

My  Ghost   Story 93 

Naming  Bedposts   • 55 

Necklace    42 

Needle   Game 38 

New  Friends   55 

Old  Hallowe'en  Friends. — J.  W.  Foley 181 

Omens. — Frank  L.   Stanton 144 

One  Thing  Needful   134 

Order  of  Serving  Refreshments. — Stanley  Schell   77 

Orange  Straws  59 

Partners  for  Supper,  Method  of  Securing. — Stanley  Schell 43 

Peanut  or  Bean  Hunt 38 

Perplexing  Hunt   37 

Plantation   Ditty. — Frank  L.   Stanton 182 

Pop-Corn  Balls    59 

Popping  Corn 123 

Pulling  Kale    37 

Pumpkin    Alphabet    36 

Queen  Mab. — Shakespeare    120 

Raisin  Race   39 

Reception  and  Introduction  of  Guests. — Stanley  Schell... 23 

Recipes  for  Hallowe'en. — Stanley  Schell 46 — 58 

Recitations    121—192 

Refreshments.— Stanley  Schell    44,  58,     77 

Refreshment  Recipes. — Stanley  Schell    46,58,    78 

Ring  and  Goblet  42 

Robin  Goodfellow,  alias  Puck,  alias  Hobgoblin. — Ben  Jonson...     67 

Salted  Nut-Meats 59 

Samples  of  Hallowe'en  Conundrums. — Stanley  Schell 79 

Samples  of  Fortune  Slips. — Stanley  Schell 79 

Saved  by  a   Ghost 113 

Say,  Au  Revoir. — Stanley  Schell 76 

Secret    Test 35 

Seein'  Things. — Eugene  Field 135 

Seein'  Things. — Stanley  Schell  76 


GENERAL  ALPHABETICAL  INDEX  5 

PAGE 

Shadow  Pantomimes   (suggestive). — Stanley  Schell  23 

Signs. — Josephine   Merwin   Cook   180 

Snapdragon    38 

Speakin'  Ghost. — Sara  S.  Rice  136 

Spook   March    24 

Spooks. — Josephine  Merwin  Cook  181 

Spooks'  Surprise  Party  183 

Suggestive  Menu  for  Hallowe'en  Supper. — Stanley  Schell 44 

Supper    44 

Supper  Games. — Stanley  Schell    44 

Sweet  William's   Ghost 132 

Syrup  for   Pop-Corn   Balls    81 

Tenting  To-night. — Stanley  Schell 76 

Threading  a   Needle    40 

That  Awful  Ghost   88 

That  Ghost. — Anna  E.  Dickinson   83 

To  Test  Friends   53 

Touchstone 36 

Two   Roses    53 

Uncle    Dan'l's    Apparition. — Mark    Twain    and    Charles    Dudley 

Warner   151 

Uncle   Noah's   Ghost. — Sylvanus    Cobb,  Jr 184 

Walnut  Boats • 39 

Water  Experiment    , 50 

When  de  Folks  is  Gone  142 

Where  Dwells  My  Lover  51 

Winding   Yarn    50 

Winnowing  Corn 50 

Witch  Costume. — Stanley  Schell       81 

Witch's  Cavern. — Bulwer  Lytton  124 

Witches'  Dance   24 

Wood  and  Water   56 

Wood  Hants. — Anna  Virginia  Culbertson 141 

Your  Lucky  Birthday  Jewel. — Stanley  Schell  63 

Your  Lucky  Sticks   ....,..,..»,,.  47 


O  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

Entertainments. 

(All  in  Part  I.) 

FAGB 

After-Supper  Sports,  Games,  Mysteries 47 

Clever  Matchmakers  (play) 27 

Dance  Program  for  Ghost  Dance 61 

Directions  for  Serving  Supper 45 

Fagot  Ghost  Stories 48 

Fortune  Slips,  Samples  of 79 

Fortune  Telling 48,  79,  82 

Fortune  Telling  with  Dominoes 82 

Games 39-59 

Games  and  Mysteries  for  Early  Evening 35 

Ghost  Dance 60 

Ghost  Stories 83-136 

Ghost  Story  Party 83 

Ghostly  Pantomimes 76 

Goblin  Parade 26 

Hallowe'en  Entertainment 65-81 

Hallowe'en  Festivities'  Decorations 15,  65 

Hallowe'en  German 61 

Hallowe'en  Invitation  Forms 17,  65 

Hallowe'en  Program.  .  . 22,67 

Hallowe'en  Supper 58 

Home  Tests  for  Hallowe'en ,53 

Lucky  Charms 62 

Macbeth's  Fortune  (play) 70 

March  to  Supper .      43" 

Menu  (suggestive) 44 

Order  of  Serving  Refreshments : 77 

Partners  for  Supper,  Method  of  Securing 43 

Reception  and  Introduction  of  Guests 23 

Recipes  for  Hallowe'en 46,  58 

Refreshments 44,  58,  77 

Samples  of  Conundrums  for  Hallowe'en 77 

Shadow  Pantomimes  (suggestive) 23 

Spook  March 24 

Supper 44 

Supper  Games 44 

Witch  Costume 81 

Witches'  Dance 24 

Your  Lucky  Birthday  Jewel    63 


CONTENTS 
RECITATIONS  [see  also  "Ghost  Stories"]. 


PAGE 

At  Candle-Lightin'  Time....  131 

Backsliding  Brother 179 

Broomstick  Train   167 

Colored  Dancing  Match 162 

Courtin'   163 

Dance  of  the  Dead 192 

Elf-Child    147 

Enchanted  Shirt 148 

Ghos'   Stories    127 

Ghoses    134 

Ghoses  in  the  Barn 189 

Ghost  of  a  Flower 128 

Ghosts 156 

Ghosts    189 

Goblins    186 

Grandpa's  Hallowe'en   176 

Hallowe'en  (an  essay) 11 

Hallowe'en   143 

Hallowe'en  143 

Hallowe'en  145 

Hallowe'en 146 

Hallowe'en  Cheer  155 


PAGE 

Howling  of  the  Witches 190 

Jack-o'-Lantern  192 

Lay  of  the  Irish  Famine 174 

Mammy's    Luck    Charm    fer 

de   Bride    178 

Old  Hallowe'en  Friends 181 

Omens    144 

One  Thing  Needful   134 

Plantation  Ditty 182 

Popping  Corn   123 

Queen  Mab    120 

Robin  Goodfellow,  alias  Puck, 

alias  Hobgoblin   67 

Seein'  Things    <> .  135 

Signs 180 

Spooks    181 

Spooks'    Surpirse    Party 183 

Sweet  William's  Ghost 132 

Uncle  Dan'l's  Apparition....   151 

When  de  Folks  is  Gone 142 

Witch's   Cavern   124 

Wood  Hants 141 


(/_ 


GHOST  STORIES. 


Don  Squixet's  Ghost 128 

Famous   Ghosts    95 

His   Father's   Ghost Ill 

Jimmy  Butler  and  the  Owl..  116 

Miss  Russell's  Ghost 104 


My  Ghost  Story 93 

Saved  by  a  Ghost 113 

Speakin'  Ghost  136 

That  Awful  Ghost 88 

That  Ghost 83 


Most  Remarkable  Vision 110      Uncle  Noah's  Ghost. 


184 


HALLOWE'EN  RECIPES. 


Apples  for  Hallowe'en 80 

Chestnuts    81 

Chicken  Salad  Rolls 58 

Cider  Flip 59 

Conundrum   Nuts    79 

Fortune  Balls   81 

Fortune  Cake  59,  78 

Fried  Cakes  59 


Grape  Pudding  58 

Hallowe'en  Pie  80 

Melon  Cream  58 

Orange  Straws  59 

Pop-Corn   Balls    59 

Salted   Nut-Meats   59 

Syrup  for  Pop-Corn  Balls...  81 


WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


Games. 


(All  in  Part  I.) 


After-Supper  Sports,  Games, 

Mysteries 47 

Alphabet  Game 40 

Apple  Paring "42 

Apple- Pip  Test 41 

Apple  Seeds 42 

Apple  Seeds 56 

Apples  and  Flour 41 

Around  the  Walnut  Tree. ...  51 

Baby  Show 58 

Barrel  Hoop 39 

Blind  Nut  Seekers 40 

Bowls  (Luggies) 35 

Candle  and  Apple 39 

Cellar  Stairs 35 

College  Colors 35 

Combing  Hair  before  Mirror.  57 

Cupid's  Time 42 

Cyniver 40 

Dough  Test : 40 

Dreamer 55 

Dry  Bread 56 

Ducking  for  Apples 52 

Fagot  Ghost  Stories 48 

Feather  Tests 36 

Four  Saucers 42 

Game  of  Fate 49 

Games     and     Mysteries     for 

Early  Evening 35 

Guess  Who 37 

Hallowe'en  Souvenir  Game. .  40 
Hiding  Ring,    Thimble    and 

Penny 35 


PAGE 

Jumping  Lighted  Candle.  ...  35 

Launching  Boats 43 

Lover's  Test 50 

Magic  Stairs 50 

Melting  Lead 52 

Mirror 52 

Mirror  and  Apple 55 

Naming  Bedposts 55 

Necklace 42 

Needle  Game 38 

New  Friends 55 

Peanut  or  Bean  Hunt 38 

Perplexing  Hunt 37 

Ptilling  Kale 49 

Pumpkin  Alphabet 36 

Raisin  Race 39 

Ring  and  Goblet 42 

Secret  Test 35 

Snapdragon 38 

Supper  Games 44 

Threading  a  Needle 40 

To  Test  Friends 53 

Touchstone 36 

Two  Roses 53 

Walnut  Boats 39 

Water  Experiment 50 

Where  Dwells  My  Lover.  ...  51 

Winding  Yarn 50 

Winnowing  Corn 50 

Wood  and  Water 56 

Your  Lucky  Sticks 47 


PART  I. 
HALLOWE'EN  ENTERTAINMENTS. 


Werner's   Readings   No.    31 — 3 


Hallowe'en. 

The  night  wind  whispers — Ghosts  ! 

They  are  waiting  for  their  hosts; 

The  waning  moon  is  weary  and  will  not  be  up  till  late ; 

Already  there  are  shadows  at  the  gate. 

A  word,  half  heard,  that  is  whispered  in  your  ear, 

And  a  presence  that  is  felt  when  no  one  else  is  near. 

Have  you  been  along  the  corridors  alone — all  alone — 

And  listened  to  the  wind  up  yonder  making  moan? 

Have  you  thought  about  it  all, 

The  footfall  in  the  hall 

That  comes  and  goes — comes  and  goes — 

With  the  measure  of  a  heartbeat  of  a  life  that  ebbs  and  flows  ? 


Werner's   Readings  No.   31 — 10 


Werners 
Readings  and  Recitations 


No.  31. 


Hitllome'jeti  festivities. 


Hallowe'en. 

An  Essay. 

Hallowe'en  or  All  Hallow  Even,  the  name  given  to  the  night 
of  October  31,  and  the  eve  of  All  Saints'  Da}>"  (November  1), 
is  one  of  the  most  delightful  opportunities  for  entertaining. 
On  such  a  night  there  should  be  nothing  but  laughter,  jollity, 
and  mystery.  It  is  the  night  best  loved  by  sprightly  little 
fairies,  gnomes,  elves,  and  witches,  and  is  the  night  of  their 
great  anniversary. 

Of  all  nights  in  the  year  this  is  the  one  upon  which  super- 
natural influences  most  prevail.  The  spirits  of  the  dead 
wander  abroad,  together  with  witches,  devils,  and  mischief - 
making  elves,  and  in  some  cases  the  spirits  of  living  persons 
have  the  temporary  power  to  leave  their  bodies  and  join  the 
ghostly  crew. 

Children  born  on  this  day  preserve  through  their  youth 
the  power  to  converse  with  these  airy  visitants.  But  often 
the  latter  reveal  themselves  to  ordinary  folk,  to  advise  or  warn 


12  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

them.  Hence  it  is  the  night  of  all  nights  for  divination. 
Impartially  weighed  against  the  others,  it  is  the  very  best 
time  of  the  whole  year  for  discovering  just  what  sort  of  a 
husband  or  wife  one  is  to  be  blessed  withal. 

Hallowe'en  is  a  curious  recrudescence  of  classic  mythology, 
Druidic  beliefs,  and  Christian  superstitions.  On  November  i 
the  Romans  had  a  feast  to  Pomona,  the  goddess  of  fruits  and 
seeds,  and  it  was  then  that  the  stores  laid  up  in  the  summer 
for  use  in  the  winter  were  opened.  Hence  the  appropriate- 
ness of  the  use  of  nuts  and  apples  at  this  time.  November  i 
or  thereabouts  was  also  the  great  autumn  festival  to  the  sun 
which  the  Druids  celebrated  in  thanksgiving  for  their  harvest. 

November  was  also  one  of  the  quaternary  periods  when 
the  Druids  lighted  their  bonfires  in  honor  of  Baal.  The  cus- 
tom was  kept  up  in  many  portions  of  Great  Britain  until  a 
comparatively  recent  period.  Wales  was  espeeialty  tena- 
cious of  it,  and  the  observances  which  marked  the  November 
fire  may  be  held  to  have  descended  directly  from  the  Druids. 
Each  family  used  to  make  its  own  fire;  and,  as  it  was  dying 
out,  each  member  would  throw  a  white  stone  into  it,  the 
stones  being  marked  for  future  identification.  Then  all  said 
their  prayers  and  went  to  bed,  and  in  the  morning  they  tried 
to  find  all  the  stones  again.  If  any  stone  was  missing,  it 
betokened  that  the  owner  of  it  would  die  within  a  year. 
Some  superstitions  are  pretty  and  picturesque  and  attractive ; 
this  was  one  of  the  many  that  were  cruel  as  well  as  picturesque. 
It  would  take  but  a  slight  accident  to  cause  a  fright  that 
might  be  actually  dangerous  to  a  superstitious  person,  and 
it  would  not  be  hard  for  an  enemy  of  such  a  person  to  cause 
that  fright  by  stealing  his  stone  from  the  fire. 

These  fires  in  Wales  were  commonly  followed  by  feasting 
on  nuts,  apples,  and  parsnips,  and  by  games.  Sometimes  nuts 
were  thrown  into  the  fires,  in  the  belief  that  they  indicated 
prosperity  to  those  who  threw  them  if  they  burned  well,  and 
the  reverse  if  they  simply  smoldered  and  turned  black.  There 
were  fires  also  in  Scotland,  and  there,  in  some  parts  of  the 
country  at  least,  the  ashes  were  carefully  raked  into  a  circle 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  1 3 

and  just  within  this  the  stones  were  placed,  one  for  each 
person  present.  If  in  the  morning  any  of  these  appeared 
to  have  been  disturbed,  it  betokened  death.  Sometimes 
it  was  the  custom  to  make  large  torches  by  binding  com- 
bustible material  to  the  tops  of  poles  and  to  bear  them 
blazing  about  the  village,  lighting  new  ones  as  often  as  the 
old  were  burned  out.  Fires  were  also  used  at  different  times 
and  places  on  All  Saints'  Night,  which  is  the  eve  of  All  Souls' 
Day,  and  on  All  Souls'  Day  itself,  the  2d  of  November.  In 
these  cases  the  fires  were  regarded  as  typical  of  immortality, 
and  were  thought  to  be  efficacious,  as  an  outward  and  visible 
sign  at  least,  for  lighting  souls  from  purgatory. 

On  this  night  the  peasants  in  Ireland  assemble  with  sticks 
and  clubs,  going  from  house  to  house,  collecting  money, 
bread-cake,  butter,  cheese,  eggs,  etc.,  for  the  feast,  repeating 
verses  in  honor  of  the  solemnity,  demanding  preparations 
for  the  festival  in  the  name  of  St.  Columb  Kill,  desiring  them 
to  lay  aside  the  fatted  calf  and  to  bring  forth  the  black  sheep. 
The  good  women  are  employed  in  making  the  griddle-cakes 
and  candles;  these  last  are  sent  from  house  to  house  in  the 
vicinity,  and  are  lighted  up  on  the  (Saman)  next  day,  before 
which  they  pray,  or  are  supposed  to  pray,  for  the  departed 
soul  of  the  donor.  Every  house  abounds  in  the  best  viands 
it  can  afford;  apples  and  nuts  are  devoured  in  abundance; 
the  nut-shells  are  burned  and  from  the  ashes  many  strange 
things  are  foretold ;  cabbages  are  torn  up  by  the  root ;  hemp- 
seed  is  sown  by  the  maidens,  and  they  believe  if  they  look 
back  they  will  see  the  apparition  of  the  man  intended  for 
their  future  spouse;  they  hang  a  smock  before  the  fire,  on 
the  close  of  the  feast,  and  sit  up  all  night,  concealed  in  a  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  convinced  that  his  apparition  will  come 
down  the  chimney  and  turn  the  smock;  they  throw  a  ball 
of  yarn  out  of  the  window,  and  wind  it  on  the  reel  within, 
convinced  that  if  they  repeat  the  Pater  Noster  backward, 
and  look  at  the  ball  of  yarn  without,  they  will  then  also  see 
his  apparition:  they  dip  for  apples  in  a  tub  of  water,  and 
endeavor  to  bring  one  up  in  the  mouth ;   they  suspend  a  cord 


14  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  31. 

with  a  cross-stick,  with  apples  at  one  point,  and  candles 
lighted  at  the  other,  and  endeavor  to  catch  the  apple,  while 
it  is  in  a  circular  motion,  in  the  mouth. 

If  in  the  word  Saman  the  Irish  preserve  a  distinct  evi- 
dence of  Druidism,  on  the  other  hand  in  the  drink  called 
"lambs-wool"  they  equally  confess  the  Roman  intermixture. 
Lambs-wool  is  made  by  bruising  roasted  apples  and  mixing 
them  with  ale  or  sometimes  with  milk.  The  "Gentleman's 
Magazine"  for  May,  1784,  says:  "This  is  a  constant  ingre- 
dient at  a  merrymaking  on  Holy  Eve."  Vallency  makes  a 
shrewd  etymological  guess  when  he  says:  "The  first  day  of 
November  was  dedicated  to  the  angel  presiding  over  fruits, 
seeds,  etc.,  and  was  therefore  named  La  Mas  Ubhal — that  is, 
the  day  of  the  apple  fruit, — and  being  pronounced  'lamasool,' 
the  English  have  corrupted  the  name  to  'lambs-wool.' "  The 
"angel  presiding  over  fruits,  seeds,  etc.,"  was  obviously  a 
reminiscence  of  Pomona.  . 

Everybody  is  familiar  with  Burns's  famous  poem  "Hal- 
lowe'en," which  gives  a  panoramic  insight  into  the  customs 
of  Old  Scotia  on  this  night  of  mirth  and  mystery.  Per- 
haps no  influence  has  done  more  than  this  to  preserve  and 
spread  these  observances  among  English-speaking  folk.. 

But  what  was  once  a  ceremony  of  belief  has  now  become 
a  thing  of  sport,  of  welcome  sport  in  a  day  of  such  serious 
thought  and  work  and  sense  of  responsibility  that  any  excuse 
for  sport  should  be  laid  hold  of;  so  that  now  its  observances 
are  all  a  jest  which  young  people  lay  upon  themselves,  not  in 
the  least  believing  in  the  consequences,  only  half  hoping 
there  may  be  something  in  it,  and  saying  to  themselves 
that  stranger  things  have  happened. 

Hallowe'en  has  become  so  popular  among  the  schools 
and  colleges  that  each  in  turn  tries  to  outdo  the  other,  and  the 
night  is  given  over  to  the  pranks  of  the  students,  and  the 
sounds  of  revelry  are  heard  issuing  from  residence  hall,  chapter- 
house, and  around  the  grounds  of  the  school  or  college. 

The  patron  saint  of  Hallowe'en  is  Saint  Matrimony. 


Hallowe'en 
Festivities' 
Decorations. 


General  Points  :  If  the  place  where  the  festivities  are 
held  is  in  the  country,  the  lawn  in  front  of  house  should 
be  decorated  with  hanging  lighted  jack-o'-lanterns.  The 
eyes,  nose,  mouth  in  each  one  should  be  different  and  as 
grotesque  as  possible.  If  there  is  a  fence  around  the  grounds, 
put  a  jack-o'-lantern  on  each  post.  Drape  black  muslin 
above  entrance  to  house;  and,  at  center,  over  door,  hang 
skull  and  cross-bones. 

Entrance  to  House  :  On  Hallowe'en  put  a  sign  on  door 
telling  guests  to  knock  low  and  slow. 

Hall  :  The  hall  should  be  in  total  darkness  except  for  light 
coming  from  jack-o'-lanterns  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  on  tables, 
and  hanging  from  doors  and  ceiling,  or  from  frame  in  open 
fire-place.  The  hall  should  be  draped  in  black;  and  the  per- 
son who  opens  the  door,  and  those  who  conduct  guests  to 
dressing-rooms,  should  all  be  gowned  in  black. 

Parlors:  Decorate  parlors  with  jack-o'-lanterns  made 
from  apples,  cucumbers,  squashes,  pumpkins,  etc.,  hanging 
them  somewhere  in  room  or  place  on  stand,  piano  or  mantel. 
Use  also  green  branches,  autumn  leaves,  apples,  tomatoes, 
ears  of  corn — red  and  white — and  drape  room  with  red  and 
yellow  scrim  and  cheese-cloth.  If  possible,  have  an  open 
fire  in  parlor — a  grate  fire  will  do.     Have  white  portieres. 

15 


l6  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

Place  of  Mysteries:  The  best  place  for  mystic  rites  is 
the  barn;  second  best  is  an  attic  full  of  shadows;  third  best 
is  a  cellar  into  which  guests  descend  immediately  after  remov- 
ing wraps;  fourth  best  is  large  hall;  lastly  the  kitchen.  Ir 
affair  is  held  in  barn,  build  a  large  bonfire  in  front  for  use  of 
guests  for  after-supper  sports.  The  place  where  the  mysteries 
are  performed  should  be  decorated  with  grewsome  things — 
jack-o'-lanterns,  skulls  and  cross-bones,  black  draperies, 
witches  made  out  of  cardboard  and  suspended  from  the 
walls,  cats,-  bats,  owls,  etc.  The  shades  and  spirits  should 
flit  about. 

Dining-Room:  The  dining-room  should  have  festoons  of 
nuts,  branches  of  oats,  strings  of  cranberries,  autumn  leaves, 
goldenrod,  odd  lanterns,  yellow  chrysanthemums,  etc.  All 
the  decorations  of  this  room  should  be  cheerful  and  suitable 
to  the  season.  Charming  maidens  flit  about  serving  the 
guests.  For  table  center-piece  use  a  large  pumpkin  with  top 
cut  off,  pulp  removed,  and  filled  with  water  holding  a  large 
bunch  of  chrysanthemums  or  goldenrod.  Bay  leaves  should 
be  scattered  over  table  and  around  the  dishes.  The  menu 
card  at  each  guest's  plate  should  be  of  burnt  leather  bearing 
a  sketch  of  a  witch.  After  all  unmask,  lights  in  dining- 
room  should  be  turned  up  and  room  made  brilliant. 

Note. — Jack-o'-lanterns  are  made  by  removing  pulp  from 
apples,  cucumbers,  squashes,  pumpkins,  etc.,  cutting  places 
for  eyes,  nose,  and  mouth,  and  fastening  a  lighted  candle 
inside. 


HA  LL  0  WE' EN  FES  TIVITIEi 


17 


Hallowe'en   Invitation   Forms. 

Send  invitations  at  least  two  weeks  ahead. 
Form  1. 


Witches  and  Choice  Spirits  of  Darkness  will 

hold  High  Carnival  at  my  Home, ■ 

October  31st,  at  eight-thirty  o'clock.  You  are 
invited  to  be  present.  Costume,  Witch  or 
Ghost,  etc, 


Form  2. 


Miss  Eleanor  James  requests  the  pleasure 

of  Mr.  Charles  Jones's  company  on 

evening,  October  31st,  at  eight  o'clock. 

She  begs  that  he  will  come  prepared  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  mysteries  and  rites  of  All-hallows 
Eve.,  and  to  wear  a  costume  appropriate  to  the 
occasion,  representing  a  character  of  fact  or 
fancy,  one  which  will  not  be  injured  by  commu- 
nion with  the  spirits  of  the  visible  and  invisible 
worlds. 


18 


WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


Form  3. 


GHOSTS  OF  THE  TWENTIETH  CENTURY. 

To  all  political,  litenary,  dramatic,  artistic  and  his- 
toric ghosts,  and  to  the  spirits  of  events,  ideas, 
customs  and  things  belonging  to  this  century. 

Fellow  Ghosts  :  You  are  summoned  to 
haunt  the  mansion,  No. St.,  on  the  even- 
ing   of ,    October   31,   19 — ,    at     three 

hours  before  midnight.  Appear  in  costume 
appropriate  to  your  earthly  being,  as  grave 
clothes  are  not  permitted. 

The  spirits  of  the  occasion  are  Miss , 

Mrs.  ,  Mrs.  ,  Miss — ,  and 

Miss . 

Assemble  in  the  cellar  and  then  rise. 

Spirits  will  please  check  their  wraps. 

Ghosts  of  ideas  must  be  well  labelled,  or 
they  will  be  carried  out. 

All  banshees,  ghouls,  will-o'-the-wisps,  genii, 
and  other  old-time  apparitions,  are  politely  re- 
quested to  absent  themselves. 

Astral  bodies  must  be  wrapt  in  more  than 
thought. 

Ayes  and  noes  sent  in  at  once,  as  the  Styx 
ferry  accommodations  are  limited. 


HALLO  WE' EN  FES TI VI TIE S. 


19 


Form  4. 

Write  the  following  invitation,  addressing  outside  envelope 
correctly,  but  inside  envelope  backwards. 


,Raey  a  ecno  tub  semoc  ne'ewollah 

doog  dnif  Iliw  uoy   esuoh    ym  ta  revo 
;Reehc 

retrauq  ta  uoy  tcepxe  ylniatrec  llahs  1 
,Thgie  ot 

_saf   evah    lliw  stsohg  taht  naht  retal 
.Etag  eht  denet 


Hang  correct  form  of  invitation  in  parlor,  where  guests 
may  see  it,  as  follows: 

INVITATION. 


Hallowe'en  comes  but  once  a  ye&r, 

Over  at  my  house  you  will  find   good 
cheer ; 

I  shall  certainly  expect  you  at  quarter 
to  eight, 

Later  than  that  ghosts  will  have  fas- 
tened the  gate. 


20 


WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


Form  5. 


Your  shade  is  expected  to  attend  a 
ghostly  gathering  which  will  haunt  the 

house  of  >VIiss on  the   31st  day 

of  October,  19 — ,  at  8.30  o'clock. 
Come  costumed  as  a  ghost  (sheet 
wrapped  around  body,  pillow-case 
head-dress,  mask  of  white  muslin  for 
face,  with  slits  cut  in  for  eyes). 
R.  S.  V.  P. 


Form  6. 


Ye  Merry  Ghosts,  and  Goblins  too, 
Come  visit  me 
On  Hallowe'en, 

At ,  when  the  clock  strikes  eight. 

And  how  we'll  dance  and  play  and  sing 
And  Fortunes  tell 
Till  rafters  ring, 
And  the  clock  strikes  twelve  I 


HALLO  WE' EX  EES  TI VI TIES. 


21 


Form  7. 

Write  invitation  on  narrow  strip  of  paper  which  roll  up 
and  tack  into  empty  English  walnut  shell.  Glue  the  two 
half  shells  together,  tie  them  into  two  square  pieces  of  paper, 
green  outside,  white  inside  (squares  8  inches).  Place  nut 
on  end  inside  of  squares,  then  gather  corners  up  around  nut 
and  tie  a  piece  of  ribbon  around  paper  close  to  nut;  turn 
back  corners  of  papers.  To  every  ribbon  attach  a  card  with 
guest's  name. 


22  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


Hallowe'en  Program. 

Hostess  should  plan  definitely  her  evening's  entertainment 
so  that  she  can  carry  out  her  whole  evening  rapidly  and 
without  hitch.  No  game  should  be  continued  after  the  fun  has 
reached  its  height. 

i.  Reception  and  Introduction  of  Guests. 

2.  Shadow  Pantomimes. 

3.  Spook  March. 

4.  Witches'  Dance. 

5.  Goblin  Parade. 

6.  Play:    "Clever  Matchmakers." 

7.  Games  and  Mysteries  for  Early  Evening. 

8.  March  to  Supper. 

9.  Supper  and  Supper  Games. 

10.  After-Supper  Sports,  Tests,  Mysteries. 

1.  Your  Lucky  Sticks. 

2.  Fagot  Ghost  Stories. 

3.  Fortune  Telling. 

4.  Games. 

5.  Home  Tests. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  2$ 


i.  RECEPTION    AND    INTRODUCTION    OF    GUESTS. 

As  guests  enter  house,  barn  or  cellar,  they  are  welcomed  by 
a  Shade  who  introduces  them  to  another  Shade  by  saying: 
"This  is  the  shade  of  my  grandfather,"  or,  "This  is  the 
shade  of  my  aunt,"  etc.  The  Shade  to  whom  the  guest 
is  introduced  conducts  the  guest  to  waiting-room  and  in- 
troduces guest  to  Ghost:  "Permit  me  to  introduce  the 
ghost  of  this  room,  she  died  ten  years  ago,"  or,  "She  was 
murdered  in  this  very  room,"  etc.  Each  time  a  guest  is 
introduced  there  should  be  a  lot  of  moans,  sighs,  groans, 
clattering  noises,  and  raps.  Sometimes  as  guest  is  intro- 
duced, Shade  may  say  when  a  moan  is  heard:  "There  is  the 
moan  of  my  ancester,"  or,  "Your  great  aunt  is  turning  over 
in  her  grave,"  or,  "That  is  the  groan  of  Hamlet  who  died 
from  over-eating,"  etc. 

After  guests  have  removed  wraps  they  are  ushered  into 
the  first  entertainment  room  by  a  band  of  Ghosts  who  close 
around  them. 

If  the  evening  is  opened  with  stage  entertainment  the 
whole  place  is  kept  in  darkness,  and  moans,  groans  and 
hisses  continue  from  all  parts  of  the  room  until  guests  feel 
shivery.  If  all  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  occasion  pande- 
monium will  reign. 


2.  SHADOW  PANTOMIMES. 

If  Shadow  Pantomimes  are  presented,  a  large  white  sheet 
is  stretched  across  front  of  stage ;  at  back  of  stage  on  floor  is 
placed  lighted  lamp  or  candle  in  front  of  a  reflector.  The 
Shadows  move  along  close  to  curtain  and  in  front  cf  lamo. 
The  more  awful  the  shadows  the  better. 


24  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


3.  SPOOK  MARCH. 

Spooks  or  Ghosts  are  costumed  in  pure  white  flowing 
draperies.  Stage  should  be  lighted  with  white  light;  back- 
ground, ceiling  and  sides  of  stage  should  be  draped  in  black. 

Enter  Spooks  R.  moaning,  groaning  and  walking  as  if 
lost.  They  keep  heads  revolving — front,  right,  back,  left,  etc., 
and  arms  waving  up  and  down. 

When  a  long  line  is  formed  across  stage,  Spooks  face 
audience,  start  back,  peer  forward,  point  fingers  at  audience 
and  moan  deeply. 

Spooks  move  wildly  about  in  circle,  shake  heads  from  side 
to  side,  wave  arms  out  toward  back,  and  forward  again. 

When  Spooks  see  audience  again  they  hiss  and  moan  and 
move  up  center  of  stage  in  couples,  waving  arms  obliquely. 

Spooks  move  across  back  of  stage  in  single  file  to  R.  and  L. 
corners;  rush  groaning  and  moaning  from  these  corners 
across  to  stage  C,  on  to  front  corners  of  stage  with  both 
arms  at  face  level  pointing  first  R.,  then  waving  arms  toward 
L.  and  so  on,  making  awful  moans. 

Spooks  reverse  and  go  back,  as  they  came,  to  back  corners, 
across  back,  down  C.  to  stage  front,  form  one  long  line  across 
stage   and   sway   first    R.    and  then   L.,   etc.    moaning  and 
groaning  as  lights  die  out,  and  finishing  with  awful  moans. 
[Exit  Spooks. — Lights  turned  up.] 

4.  WITCHES'  DANCE. 

Music:  "Tarn  O'Shanter."      (Sent  for  50c.) 

Enter  eight   Witches  riding  brooms  and  dancing  around 

stage  in  a  circle,  while  constant  hissing  is  kept  up  as  if  lots 

of  cats  were  present. 

After   Witches   have   completed   one   circle,    they   reverse 

and  go  around  stage  in  opposite  directions.     (Stage  is  lighted 

with  white  light.) 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  25 


Witches  straighten  into  one  long  line  at  each  side  of  stage 
with  brooms  at  side.  They  whiil  brooms  in  air  and  lines 
swing  into  one  long  line  facing  audience  with  hissing  sound. 
(Stage  is  lighted  with  red  light.) 

Witches  clump  handles  of  brooms  on  stage  three  times  and 
meow.      (Stage  is  lighted  with  green  light.) 

Witches  whirl  brooms  in  air  again;  line  divides  at  C.  and 
swings  back  to  sides  with  hissing  sound.  (Stage  is  lighted 
with  white  light.) 

Witches  clump  brooms  on  floor  three  times  and  meow. 
(Stage  is  lighted  with  green  light.) 

Witches  drop  broom  ends  on  floor  and  drag  them;  lines 
approach  each  other  and  pass  each  other  to  opposite  sides 
on  tiptoe  saying  "sh-uh  sh-uh"  in  most  witchly  fashion. 

At  opposite  sides,  Witches  face  back  of  stage  in  two  long 
lines  and,  hissing  fast  and  loud  with  brooms  in  air,  rush 
back  sidewise  to  opposite  sides  of  stage.  As  Witches  pass 
each  other  at  stage  C.  the  hissing  should  be  very  fierce. 
(Stage  lighted  with  yellow  light.) 

Lines  face  stage  front,  brooms  held  high  in  air  in  front. 
Witches  trip  wildly  across  front  of  stage  and  around  to 
back  of  stage,  meowing  as  they  go,  passing  at  stage  front  C. 
and  meeting  at  stage  back  C,  all  the  time  whirling  brooms. 
(Stage  lighted  with  red  light.) 

Forming  into  couples  at  stage  back  C,  Witches  ride 
brooms  to  sta^e  C,  then,  hissing  loudly,  form  one  long  line 


26  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

across  stage  facing  audience.  (Stage  lighted  with  yellow 
light.) 

Witches  rest  brooms  on  floor  and,  holding  them  still, 
dance  around  them  by  way  of  R. ;  around  them  by  way  of  L., 
leering  at  guests.      (Stage  lighted  with  white  light.) 

Witches  move  around  C.  of  stage  in  circle,  clumping 
handles  of  broom  "clump,  clump,  clumpety,  clump,"  all 
around  the  circle;  putting  brooms  between  legs,  ride  off 
stage  with  hissing  sound.     (Stage  lighted  with  yellow  light.) 

5.  GOBLIN  PARADE. 

Stage  in  darkness. 

Red  tableau  light  discloses  Goblins  at  stage  C,  in  semi- 
circle,  grinning  hideously   at   audience. 

Green  tableau  light.  Goblins  take  handsprings  to  stage 
front,  leering  at  audience. 

White  tableau  light.  Goblins  open  mouths  wide,  then 
take   side  somersaults   all  around  stage. 

Yellow  tableau  light.  Goblins  bend  over  and  play  leap- 
frog to  stage  back,  then  reverse  and  return  to  stage  front. 

Red  tableau  light.  Goblins  form  in  circle  and  whirl 
rapidly  first  R.  and  then  L. 

White  tableau  light.  Goblins  bend  forward  and  swing 
bodies  to  R..  and  L.,  taking  funny  steps,  all  around  stage  to 
back  C,  winking  as  they  go.  At  back  C.  first  two  kneel, 
second  two  jump  over  and  kneel,  some  distance  away;  next 
couple  jump  over  first  couple,  then  second  couple,  and  so  on 
until  all  couples  have  jumped  over  and  are  kneeling;  then 
first  couple  turn  and  jump  over  each  couple  until  they  have 
reached  front  of  stage;  then  they  trip  around  to  R.  side  of 
stage.     Each  couple  in  turn  do  likewise. 

When  all  Goblins  are  on  line  at  R.  side  of  stage  they  put 
fingers  at  side  of  nose  and  trip  wildly  around  stage  in  circle; 
reverse  and  rush  off  stage. 

[Tableau  light  powder,  in  any  of  these  colors,  sent  postpaid  for  $1  a 
pound,  65  cents  half  pound,  35  cents  quarter  pound.] 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  27 


6.  PLAY:    "CLEVER  MATCHMAKERS." 

BY    BEATRICE    E.    RICE. 

Characters:   Mr.  Benedict  Buckley,  diplomatic  host. 
Mrs.  Benedict  Buckley,  strategic  hostess. 
Agnes  Hunt,  their  guest  and  a  belle  of  three  winters. 
Charley  Legree,  young  army  officer. 
Everett  Evans,  the  catch  of  the  season. 
Owen  Reynolds,  a  confirmed  woman  hater. 
Miss  Bruce,  susceptible  young  bud. 

Millicent,  Marie,  Mary,  Matilda,  and  Maud  Willowby, 
five  jolly  sisters. 
Janet,  the  maid. 


SCENE  I. 

Library  of  the  Buckleys'  country  house.  [Enter  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Buckley,  the  latter  talking  volubly.] 

Mrs.  Buckley.  Benedict,  my  dear,  I  simply  must  insist 
upon  arranging  this  affair  to  my  own  satisfaction.  It  is,  as 
you  know,  high  time  Agnes  was  well  married  and  settled 
down.  Yes,  I  agree  with  you.  She  is  fascinating,  but  she 
is  also  almost  thirty,  and  her  aunt  says  she  can  not  afford  to 
have  her  on  her  hands  much  longer,  especially  as  Imogene  is 
coming  out  next  winter. 

Mr.  B.  Well,  but,  Cecily,  suppose  she  refuses  to  be  mar- 
ried offhand  in  this  way? 

Mrs.  B.     Strategy,  Benedict,  strategy. 

Mr.  B.  But,  my  dear,  I  have  such  unpleasant  recollections 
of  the  last  couple  you  brought  together  by — er,  strategy, 
you  know. 


28  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

Mrs.  B.     Benedict,  I  must  beg  that  you  never  refer  to  that 
incident   again.     Adelaide   Turner  was   a  high-spirited  girl, 
who  would  have  been  divorced  from  the  best  man  living  in./ 
a  year's  time,  so  I  do  not  feel  in  the  least  to  blame. 

Mr.  B.  Ah,  very  well,  my  dear.  What,  may  I  ask,  is  your 
plan  of  action  in  this  especial  case? 

Mrs.  B.  [tapping  her  forehead  lightly  with  fingers].  Let  ma 
think  a  moment. 

[Mr.  B.  strides  about  room  whistling  softly  with  hands  in 
pockets .] 

Mrs.  B.  {suddenly  springing  up  and  placing  her  hand  on  his, 
arm].     I  have  it:  just  listen. 

[Mr.  B.  stops  whistling  and  listens  attentively.] 

Mrs.  B.     Eating  is  conducive  to  sentiment,  is  it  not? 

Mr.  B.  [somewhat  surprised].  Why — er — yes,  but  it  de- 
pends largely  upon  what  you  have  to  eat. 

Mrs.  B.  Certainly,  I  agree  with  you,  therefore,  I  intend 
giving  a  little  informal  dinner  to-night.  Just  five  or  six 
covers,  you  know,  and  of  course  both  you  and  I  know  that 
to-night  is  Hallowe'en.  [She  smiles  at  him  and  he  takes  her 
hand  from  his  shoulder  and  kisses  it.]  We  must,  however, 
pretend  not  to  know  that  it  is,  until  dinner  is  well  under  way, 
because  if  Agnes  smells  a  mouse — Mercy!  what  was  that? 
[Gives  a  shrill  little  squeal.] 

Mr.  B.     Only  the  portiere  rings  moving. 

Mrs.  B.     What  made  them  move? 

Mr.  B.     The  wind,  I  suppose. 

Mrs.  B.  [calming  down].  Yes,  I  suppose  so.  Well,  to 
continue  the  subject:  While  we  are  all  at  table  you  must  lead 
off  something  like  this:  "Cecily,  did  you  receive  the  Morton's 
invitations?"  I  will  answer  in  the  affirmative.  Then  you 
must  say:  "By  the  way,  what's  the  date  of  their  dance?" 
I'll  say,  "The  fourth  of  November."  Then  you  must  say,  as 
if  very  much  surprised,  "Why,  'pon  my  word,  that's  only 
about  four  days  off.  This  is  the  thirty-first,  and,  good  gra- 
cious, it's  All-Hallowe'en."  Then  I  shall  clap  my  hand? 
in  a  jubilant  manner,  and  say,  "Yes!    yes!    We  must  test 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVLTLES.  29 

some  charms."  You  see,  Agnes  will  be  the  only  girl  [she 
gives  a  little  jump] — I  tell  you,  Benedict,  there  is  something 
behind  those  curtains. 

Mr.  B.  [striding  over  to  them  and  drawing  one  aside].  You 
are  nervous,  Cecily;   there  is  nothing  there. 

Mrs.  B.  And  of  course  you  must  have  young  Legree  and 
Everett  Evans.  They  are  both  splendid  catches  for  any 
girl.  And  one  will  act  as  a  foil  to  the  other.  I  will  insist 
that  Agnes  shall  go  around  the  house  with  her  mouth  full  of 
water. 

Mr.  B.     With  her  mouth  full  of  water! 

Mrs.  B.  Certainly,  you  dear  goose.  And  we  will  send 
Charley  Legree  or  Everett  out  of  another  door  with  tlieir 
mouths  full  of  water.  Each  will,  of  course,  be  unconscious 
of  the  other's  presence.  Then  they  must  proceed  around 
the  house  without  speaking  a  word  or  swallowing  one 
drop  of  water,  and  should  they  meet,  that  will  precipitate 
matters. 

Mr.  B.  Yes,  ahem,  I  should  think  so,  about  as  much  as  a 
waterspout  might,  but  I  don't  quite  see  how  that  leads  up 
to  matrimony. 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  Benedict,  you  are  really  too  stupid.  If  you 
had  met  me  coming  around  the  side  of  a  house  with  my 
cheeks  like  this  [swells  cheeks  out],  and  my  mouth  full  of  water 
three  years  ago,  what  would  you  have  done? 

Mr.  B.  Why,  my  dear,  I  surely  think  I  should  have  run 
away. 

Mrs.  B.  Absurd.  You  would  have  done  nothing  of  the 
kind;   you  undoubtedly  would  have  kissed  me. 

Mr.  B.  Never!  At  least  not  until  you  had  swallowed 
every  drop  of  that  water. 

[The  portieres  arc  pushed  aside  and  a  very  pretty  young 
lady  enters  the  room  and  looks  amusedly  from  one  to  the  other.] 

Agnes  Hunt.  Well,  you  two  conspirators,  what  dark  and 
mysterious  deed  are  you  plotting  now? 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  B.  [after  an  embarrassing  silence,  with  one 
accord].     We  were  talking  over  some  business  matters. 


30  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

A.  H.  [laughing  lightly].  Really?  Well,  I  have  just  come 
in  from  making  a  few  hurried  calls  on  the  different  girls  about 
here. 

Mrs.  B.  [somewhat  surprised].  Why  hurried  calls,  my 
dear? 

A.  H.  Well,  I  wanted  to  talk  over  some  business  matters 
with  them.     [She  laughs  again.] 

Mrs.  B.  [looks  askance  at  Mr.  B.].  Agnes,  we  are  going 
to  give  a  very  small  dinner  to-night.  I'm  afraid  Gordon  is 
not  equal  to  a  large  affair  just  yet.  She  has  sprained  her 
wrist  quite  badly,  and  of  course  it  will  be  rather  stupid  for 
you,  but  then  Benedict  has  asked  a  man  or  two;  that  will 
perhaps  be  interesting.     You  are  fond  of  men  ? 

A.  H.  Oh,  yes!  But  [shaking  a  little  bag  attached  to  her 
chatelaine]  you  must  not  expect  me  to  be  smitten  by  their 
manly  charms.  I've  worn  this  St.  Joseph,  lo!  these  many 
years,  and  I'm  still  "heart  whole  and  fancy  free." 

[Mr.  and  Mrs.  B.  exchange  despairing  glances.] 

Mrs.  B.  Agnes,  dear,  do  you  never  think  what  a  delightful 
thing  it  is,  or  would  be,  to  have  a  husband  and  a  home  of 
your  own? 

A.  H.  No,  indeed,  you  dear  thing,  I  much  prefer  other 
people's  homes  and  husbands,  for  they  never  cause  one  the 
least  annoyance. 

Mrs.  B.  [in  pretended  wrath].  I've  a  good  mind  to  send 
you  home  to  your  aunt  at  once. 

A.  H.  Oh,  don't,  dear!  I'm  so  fond  of  you.  Come,  let's 
go  and  consult  Gordon  on  the  dinner  question.  [Slips 
her  arm  around  Mrs.  B.'s  waist  and  they  leave  the  room  to- 
gether.] 

Mr.  B.  [soliloquizing].  It's  all  very  well  for  Cecily  to  ask 
me  to  invite  those  two  young  fops,  Charley  Legree  and  Everett 
Evans,  in  order  to  entertain  Agnes,  but  I'd  like  a  sensible 
man  to  talk  to  myself.  I  think  I'll  just  step  across  fields 
and  ask  Owen  Reynolds  to  come  over  for  a  game  of  ecarte 
after  dinner.  He's  not  fond  of  women.  [Shakes  his  head.] 
By  Jove!    the  one  must  have  been  a  queen  who  drove  him 


HALLOWEEN  FESTIVITIES.  3  I 

away  from  here  for  so  many  years.     Poor  fellov/,  poor  old 
Owen.     [Leaves  room  shaking  head  dolefully.] 


SCENE  II. 

Drawing-room  of  Buckley  house.  [Mrs.  B.  and  A.  H. 
in  evening  dress  enter  room  and  seat  themselves .] 

Mrs.  B.  There,  my  dear,  we  will  leave  the  men  to  their 
wine  and  cigars  for  awhile.  [Bell  rings  briskly.  Mrs.  B., 
looking  startled.]     Why,  who  can  that  be? 

[Enter  maid  with  several  cards  on  salver.] 

Mrs.  B.  [looking  at  them  one  by  one].  Oh,  goodness!  what 
shall  we  do?  Here  are  the  five  Willowby  girls  and  their 
friend,  Miss  Bruce. 

A.  H.  Well,  the  more  the  merrier.  Put  all  six  girls  in  the 
attic  to  try  their  fortune  with  the  apple  and  looking-glass, 
and  secrete  the  two  men  somewhere  to  look  over  their  shoul- 
ders.    I  sha'n't  miss  them — the  men,  I  mean. 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  Agnes,  I'm  ready  to  cry.  You  will  persist 
in  upsetting  all  my  plans. 

A.  H.  [rising  and  greeting  six  very  pretty  girls  that  enter]. 
Oh,  you  dear  creatures,  how  lovely  you  look,  and  how  sweet 
of  you  to  come. 

Mrs.  B.  [aside  to  Agnes].  Agnes,  you  wretch,  you  have 
done  this  on  purpose. 

A.  H.  [also  aside].  Well,  dear,  vou  wanted  to  marry  me 
off,  and  self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of  nature. 

[Enter  the  men,  in  high  spirits.] 

Charley  Legree.  Come  on.  I  thought  we  were  going  to 
bob  for  apples  and  do  a  lot  of  other  things. 

Mrs.  B.  [helplessly].     Well,  we  were,  but — 

A.  H.     There  was  only  one  girl  before,  now  "we  are  seven." 

Everett  Evans.     Jolly  number — always  lucky. 

Mrs.  B.  [aside  to  Mr.  B.].  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  where 
the  luck's  coming  in.  [Aloud  to  her  guests.]  We  have  not 
hand-glasses  enough  to  go  around,  but  you  girls  can  take  turns 


32  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  SI. 

in  going  to  the  attic  or  cellar,  whichever  you  prefer,  and  eating 
an  apple  before  the  glass.     Suppose  Agnes  goes  first. 

A.  H.     Ah,  ha!   No,  you  don't,  my  dear.     Send  Miss  Bruce. 

Miss  B.  [sweetly].  Why,  I  don't  mind  in  the  least.  [Picks 
up  an  apple  from  a  dish  on  table  and  disappears.  Each  girl 
save  Agnes  follows  suit  and  the  men  depart  also.] 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  Agnes,  I  hope  you  are  perfectly  satisfied 
with  your  night's  work.  Perhaps  you  will  try  the  water 
charm  [ironically]  now  that  the  men  have  departed  and  you 
are  quite  sure  of  being  safe.  Indeed,  I  think  you  could  walk 
about  the  house  half  the  night  without  fear  of  being  molested. 
[Fans  herself  indignantly.] 

A.  H.  [gaily].  Under  those  circumstances  I  think  I'll  try  it. 
It  is  a  lovely  moonlight  night,  so  here  goes.  [Takes  up  a  glass 
and  fills  her  mouth  with  water,  waves  her  hand  at  Mrs.  B.  and 
departs  through  front  door.] 

Mrs.  B.  [to  Mr.  B.,  who  has  just  entered  room].  Benedict, 
I  intend  to  wash  my  hands  of  Agnes  Hunt  after  to-night.  She 
simply  won't  marry  herself  and  won't  let  any  one  else.  There 
are  half  a  dozen  eligible  men  dangling  around  her,  who  would 
turn  their  attention  to  the  other  girls  if  she  were  only  married. 
Now  just  look  how  she  has  spoiled  this  eveninj.  She  got 
wind  of  our  little  scheme,  and  purposely  invited  all  those 
girls  here. 

Mr.  B.  Well,  my  dear,  you  certainly  can  not  accuse  her 
in  this  instance  of  monopolizing  the  men. 

Mrs.  B.  Benedict,  don't  wilfully  misconstrue  my  meaning. 
You  know  very  well  both  of  those  men,  if  they  are  not  with 
her  already  philandering  in  the  garden,  want  to  be. 

Mr.  B.  [laughing  softly].  I  doubt  it,  my  dear.  I  just 
passed  the  conservatory  and  saw  the  heads  of  Charley  Legree 
and  little  Miss  Bruce  very  close  together';  and  as  for  Mary 
Willowby  and  Everett  Evans,  they  are  walking  around  the 
attic  arm  in  arm  utterly  oblivious  to  their  surroundings. 

Mrs.  B.  [tearfully],     There — it  is  just  as  I  knew  it  would 

be.     That  silly  little  Ethel  Bruce  and  that  horse-marine  of  a 

'Mary  Willowbv  have  deliberately  walked  off  with  those  two 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  33 

men  right  under  my  nose,  and  I  shall  have  to  send  Agnes 
home  to  her  aunt  without  a  single  offer. 

Mr.  B.  There,  there!  my  dear.  Don't  take  things  so 
hard. 

Mrs.  B.  Where,  I  should  like  to  know,  are  those  other 
odious  girls? 

Mr.  B.     I  set  them  to  melting  lead  in  the  kitchen. 

Mrs.  B.  Yes,  and  there's  that  horrid  Agnes  gone  on  a 
perfect  witch's  dance  around  the  house,  with  her  mouth 
filled  with  water,  and  not  a  man  in  sight  for  miles.  Since 
she  is  so  fond  of  other  people's  husbands,  perhaps  [tartly]  you 
had  better  go  and  escort  her  indoors  before  she  catches  her 
death  of  cold.  [A  loud  scream  causes  them  both  to  start  up 
and  rim  to  the  window.] 

Mrs.  B.  Merciful  goodness!  Benedict,  what  was  that? 
I  saw  a  dark  figure  rush  towards  Agnes. 

Mr.  B.     Let  me  go,  I  say!     [Tries  to  unclasp  her  hands.] 

Mrs.  B.     Never.     You  will  be  murdered! 

Mr.  B.  Cecily,  that  girl's  blood  be  upon  you  if  you  do  not 
let  me  go  and  protect  her!     [Struggles  vainly  to  free  himself.] 

Mrs.  B.  Look,  look!  [At  that  points  with  one  finger  through 
the  window.] 

Mr.  B.  The  brute!  He  is  kissing  her  again  and  again! 
Cecily,  you  should  be  ashamed  to  hold  me  in  this  way  with 
that  maniac  conducting  himself  so! 

Mrs.  B.  [shaking  her  husband's  arm  vigorously].  Yes, 
yes,  but  she  has  her  head  on  his  shoulder  now. 

Mr.  B.  [giving  a  start].  Will  wonders  never  cease!  Why, 
it's"  Owen  Reynolds,  by  thunder!      [Claps  his  leg.] 

Mrs.  B.  I  thought  you  told  me  he  went  to  shoot  tigers 
in  the  wilds  of  Africa  because  he  had  never  recovered  from 
some  love  affair.  That's  just  like  you  men.  And  here  he 
is  kissing  and  embracing  a  woman  he  never  saw  before. 

Mr.  B.     Hush!   they  are  coming  in. 

[Enter  Agnes  and  Owen  Reynolds.] 

A.  H.  [rapturously].     He  has  come  at  last! 

Mrs.  B.  [rather  coldly].     Whom  do  you  refer  to? 


34 


WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 


A.  H.  Why,  my  St.  Joseph,  of  course.  [Pats  0.  R.  on 
the  arm.] 

Mrs.  B.  Don't  be  absurd,  Agnes.  Do  explain  yourself. 
First  I  hear  you  give  a  scream  as  if  to  rend  heaven  and  earth, 
and  then,  after  some  time,  you  appear  with  Mr.  Reynolds. 

A.  H.  [leaving  her  escort's  side  and  going  over  to  her  hostess]. 
You  dear,  cross  thing,  Owen  and  I  were  engaged  four  years 
ago,  and  then  [hesitatingly]  we  quarreled.  Now  he  has  come 
back  and — -we've  made  it  up. 

Owen  Reynolds.  Yes,  this  must  be  something  of  a  sur- 
prise to  you,  Mrs.  Benedict,  as  it  was  a  very  great  one  to  me. 
[He  turns  to  Mr.  B.  as  if  to  cover  his  evident  confusion.]  I  say, 
old  fellow,  have  you  got  a  dry  collar  to  lend  me  ?  I  frightened 
poor  Agnes  so  she — er — half  fainted  and — er* — to  my  surprise 
she  spouted  like  a  whale,  you  know,  and  I  got  my  collar  rather 
wet.  What  the  dickens  was  she  doing  with  her  mouth  full  of 
water  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Why,  looking  for  you,  of  course.  I  knew  that 
charm  would  work.  You  remember  "I  told  you  so,"  Bene- 
dict. 

[Curtain, .] 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVLTLES.  35 

7.  GAMES    AND     MYSTERIES    FOR    EARLY    EVENING. 

1.  HIDING  RING,  THIMBLE  AND  PENNY. 

Hide  ring,  thimble  and  penny  in  room.  To  one  who 
finds  ring  speedy  marriage  is  assured;  thimble  denotes  life 
of  single  blessedness;    penny  promises  wealth. 

2.  JUMPING  LIGHTED  CANDLE. 
Place  lighted  candle  in  middle  of  floor,  not  too  securely 
placed;  each  one  jumps  over  it.  Whoever  succeeds  in 
clearing  candle  is  guaranteed  a  happy  year,  free  of  trouble 
or  anxiety.  He  who  knocks  candle  over  will  have  a  twelve- 
month of  woe. 

3.  SECRET  TEST. 

Float  in  tub  of  water  a  half  walnut  shell  with  tiny  sail 
made  of  a  tooth-pick  and  slip  of  paper.  On  paper  each  one 
writes  his  initials  and  another's;  revealing  name  to  no  one. 
Boats  are  all  launched  at  same  time;  water  is  agitated  to 
make  miniature  waves;  those  whose  boats  are  overturned  will 
not  win  their  lovers  and  sweethearts,  but  owners  of  boats 
that  override  the  troubled  seas  will  get  their  hearts'  desires. 

4.  COLLEGE  COLORS. 

Ribbons  indicating  college  colors  are  hung  up;  girls  or 
young  men  are  blindfolded,  and  each  picks  out  a  streamer, 
and  so  knows  what  future  college  husband  or  wife  will  have 
for  alma  mater. 

5.  CELLAR  STAIRS. 

Cellar-stairs'  test  is  where  girl  boldly  goes  down  stairs 
backward,  holding  a  mirror,  and  trying  to  catch  in  it  the 
features  of  him  who  is  to  be  her  mate. 

6.  BOWLS  ("LUGGIES"). 

One  bowl  is  filled  with  clear  water,  another  with  wine,  a 
third  with  vinegar,   a  fourth  is   empty.     All  are  placed  in 


3^  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

line  on  table.  Testers  are  blindfolded,  turned  about  three 
times,  and  led  to  table.  A  hand  is  put  out  and  prophecy- 
made  by  bowl  touched.  Water  shows  happy,  peaceful  life; 
wine  promises  rich,  eventful,  noble  career;  vinegar,  misery 
and  poverty;  an  empty  bowl  is  a  symbol  of  bachelor  or 
spinster  life. 

7.  PUMPKIN  ALPHABET. 

Hostess  enters  with  small  round  pumpkin  on  old  pewter 
platter.  On  pumpkin  are  carved  all  letters  of  alphabet. 
One  guest  is  blindfolded  and  given  a  hat-pin,  then  led  to 
pumpkin,  where  she  is  expected  to  stick  pin  into  one  of  the 
letters  on  the  pumpkin,  thus  indicating  the  initial  of  future 
life-partner. 

8.  FEATHER  TESTS. 

To  foretell  complexion  of  future  mate,  select  three  soft, 
fluffy  feathers.  (If  none  is  handy,  ask  for  a  pillow  and 
rip  open  and  take  out  feathers.)  On  bottom  end  of  each 
feather  fasten  a  small  piece  of  paper;  a  drop  of  paste  or 
mucillage  will  hold  all  three  in  place.  Write  "blonde"  on 
one  paper;  "brunette,"  on  another,  and  "medium"  on 
the  third.  Label  papers  before  gluing  them  on  feathers. 
Hold  up  one  feather  by  its  top  and  send  it  flying  with  a  puff 
of  breath.  Do  same  with  the  other  two ;  the  feather  landing 
nearest  you  denotes  complexion  of  your  true  love.  To 
make  test  sure,  try  three  times,  not  using  too  much  force  in 
blowing  feathers,  which  should  land  on  table,  not  on  floor. 

9.  TOUCHSTONE. 

If  you  wish  something  very  pleasant  to  happen,  try  "touch- 
stone" charm.  Place  on  a  platter  seven  small,  clean  stones 
of  same  shape  and  size — six  of  common  grayish  color,  the 
seventh  white.  After  being  blindfolded  and  changing 
position  of  stones  on  platter,  describe  a  circle  in  air  three 
times  with  left  hand,  at  last  bringing  forefinger  down  on 
one  of  the  stones.  Should  you  touch  white  one,  good  for- 
tune  is   yours. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  Z7 


10.  GUESS  WHO? 

"Guess  Who?"  is  a  game  where  a  suspended  sheet  is  used. 
An  aperture  just  large  enough  for  a  pair  of  eyes  to  look 
through  is  made.  Men  are  seated  on  one  side  of  curtain, 
while  women  are  on  the  other.  Under  direction  of  captain, 
who  directs  her  company,  first  young  woman  looks  through 
opening.  Captain  of  young  men  arranges  who  shall  have 
first  three  guesses.  Should  he  fail  to  discover  the  owner  of 
eyes,  she  steps  aside,  to  be  put  up  again,  and  thus  mystify 
and  confuse  her  audience.  The  failure  of  young  man  in 
guessing  leaves  him  without  a  partner  for  remainder  of  game, 
while  successful  ones  enjoy  waltz  or  two-step  after  game  is 
finished;  or,  if  preferred,  prizes  are  given,  which  a  man 
presents  to  the  woman  he  has  guessed. 

ii.  PERPLEXING   HUNT. 

In  this  game  the  seeker  for  a  prize  is  guided  from  place 
to  place  by  doggerels  as  the  following,  and  is  started  on  his 
hunt  with  this  rhyme: 

"Perhaps    you'll    find   it    in   the    air; 
If  not,   look  underneath  your  chair." 
Beneath  his  chair  he  finds  the  following: 
"No,  you  will  not  find  it  here; 
Search  the  clock  and  have  no  fear." 
Under  the  clock  he  finds: 

"You  will  have  to  try  once  more; 
Look  behind  the  parlor  door." 
Tied  to  the  door-knob  he  discovers: 

"If  it's  not  out  in  the  stable, 
Seek  beneath  the  kitchen  table." 
Under   the   kitchen   table   he   finds    another  note,    which 
reads : 

"If  your  quest  remains  uncertain, 
You  will  find  it   'neath  a  curtain." 
And  here  his  quest  is  rewarded  by  finding  the  prize. 


38  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

12.  BABY  SHOW. 

"The  Baby  Show"  makes  much  mirth.  Each  guest 
brings  his  baby  pictures,  which  have  names  on  outside  and 
are  arranged  on  table  with  numbers  attached,  and  catalogued 
as  in  an  art  collection.  Young  men  are  invited  to  view  their 
future  wives  and  young  women  their  future  husbands. 
They  expect  to  see  photographs  of  grown-ups.  However, 
the  guests  try  to  guess  whom  the  pictures  represent,  and 
prizes  are  given  for  prettiest  baby.  The  teller  keeps  tally 
of  lucky  guessers,  who  receive  for  souvenirs  rattles,  dolls, 
toys,  etc. 

13.  SNAPDRAGON. 

1.  The  dragon  consists  of  half  a  pint  of  ignited  brandy  or 
alcohol  in  a  dish.  As  soon  as  brandy  is  aflame,  all  lights 
are  extinguished,  and  salt  is  freely  sprinkled  in  dish,  impart- 
ing a  corpse-like  pallor  to  every  face.  Candied  fruits,  figs, 
raisins,  sugared  almonds,  etc.,  are  thrown  in,  and  guests 
snap  for  them  with  their  fingers;  person  securing  most 
prizes  from  flames  will  meet  his  true  love  within  the  year. 

2.  Or,  slips  of  paper  on  which  verses  are  written  are  wrapped 
tightly  in  tin-foil  and  placed  in  dish.  Brandy  is  poured  on 
and  ignited.  The  verse  each  person  gets  is  supposed  to 
tell   his   fortune. 

Place  burning  dish  in  middle  of  bare  table,  for  drops  of 
burning  spirits  are  often  splashed  about. 

14.  PEANUT  OR  BEAN  HUNT. 

•  Peanuts  or  beans  are  previously  hidden  in  every  conceiv- 
able place  in  rooms  to  which  guests  have  access.  Finder 
of  greatest  number  gets  prize. 

15.  NEEDLE  GAME. 

Each  person  floats  greased  needle  in  basin  of  water.  Im- 
pelled by  attraction  of  gravitation,  needles  will  act  very 
curiously;    some  cling  together,  others  rush  to  margin  and 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVLTLES.  39 

remain.  The  manner  in  which  one  person's  needle  behaves 
towards  another's  causes  amusement,  and  is  supposed  to  be 
suggestive  and  prophetic. 

16.  CANDLE  AND  APPLE. 

At  one  end  of  stick  18  inches  long  fasten  an  apple;  at 
other  end,  a  short  piece  of  lighted  candle.  Suspend  stick 
from  ceiling  by  stout  cord  fastened  in  its  middle  so  that 
stick  will  balance  horizontally;  while  stick  revolves  players 
try  to  catch  apple  with  their  teeth.  A  prize  may  be  in 
center  of  apple. 

17.  RAISIN  RACE. 

A  raisin  is  strung  in  middle  of  thread  a  yard  long,  and 
two  persons  take  each  an  end  of  string  in  mouth;  whoever, 
by  chewing  string,  reaches  raisin  first  has  raisin  and  will  be 
first  wedded. 

18.  BARREL-HOOP. 

Suspend  horizontally  from  ceiling  a  barrel-hoop  on  which 
are  fastened  alternately  at  regular  intervals  apples,  cakes, 
candies,  candle-ends.  Players  gather  in  circle  and,  as  it 
revolves,  each  in  turn  tries  to  bite  one  of  the  edibles;  the 
one  who  seizes  candle  pays  forfeit. 

19.  WALNUT  BOATS. 

Open  English  walnuts,  remove  meat,  and  in  each  half 
shell  fasten  short  pieces  of  differently  colored  Christmas 
candles,  each  of  which  is  to  be  named  for  a  member  of  party 
and,  after  lighting,  set  afloat  in  large  pan  or  tub  of  water. 
The  behavior  of  these  tiny  boats  reveals  future  of  those  for 
whom  they  are  named.  If  two  glide  on  together,  their 
owners  have  a  similar  destiny;  if  they  glide  apart,  so  will 
their  owners.  Sometimes  candles  will  huddle  together  as 
if  talking  to  one  another,  while  perchance  one  will  be  left 
alone,  out  in  the  cold,  as  it  were.  Again,  two  will  start  off 
and  all  the  rest  will  closely  follow.  The  one  whose  candle 
first  goes  out  is  destined  to  be  old  bachelor  or  maid.     These 


4°  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

nut-shell  boats  may  also  be  made  by  pouring  melted  wax 
into  halves  of  walnut -shells  in  which  are  short  strings  for 
wicks. 

20.  ALPHABET  GAME. 

Cut  alphabet  from  newspaper  and  sprinkle  on  surface  of 
water;  letters  floating  may  spell  or  suggest  name  of  future 
husband  or  wife. 

21.  THREADING  A  NEEDLE. 

Sit  on  round  bottle  laid  lengthwise  on  floor,  and  try  to 
thread  a  needle.     First  to  succeed  will  be  first  married. 

22.  HALLOWE'EN  SOUVENIR  GAME. 
Suspend  apples  by  means  of  strings  in  doorway  or  from 
ceiling  at  proper  height  to  be  caught  between  the  teeth. 
First  successful  player  receives  prize.  These  prizes  should 
be  Hallowe'en  souvenirs,  such  as  emery  cushions  of  silk 
representing  tomatoes,  radishes,  apples,  pears,  pickles;  or 
pen-wipers  representing  brooms,  bats,  cats,  witches,  etc. 

23.  CYNIVER. 

Each  girl  and  boy  seeks  an  even -leaved  sprig  of  ash;  first 
of  either  sex  that  finds  one  calls  out  cyniver,  and  is  answered 
by  first  of  opposite  sex  that  succeeds ;  and  these  two,  if  omen 
fails  not,  will  be  joined  in  wedlock. 

24.  BLIND  NUT  SEEKERS. 

Let  several  guests  be  blindfolded.  Then  hide  nuts  or 
apples  in  various  parts  of  room  or  house.  One  finding  most 
nuts  or  apples  wins  prize. 

25.  DOUGH  TEST. 

Take  water  and  meal  and  make  dough.  Write  on  slips  of 
paper  names  of  several  of  opposite  sex  friends;  roll  papers 
into  balls  of  dough  and  drop  them  into  water.  First  name 
to  appear  will  be  future  husband  or  wife.  - 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  4 1 

26.  DUMB  CAKE. 

Each  one  places  handful  of  wheat  flour  on  sheet  of  white 
paper  and  sprinkles  it  over  with  a  pinch  of  salt.  Some  one 
makes  it  into  dough,  being  careful  not  to  use  spring  water. 
Each  rolls  up  a  piece  of  dough,  spreads  it  out  thin  and  flat, 
and  marks  initials  on  it  with  a  new  pin.  The  cakes  are  placed 
before  fire,  and  all  take  seats  as  far  from  it  as  possible.  This 
is  done  before  eleven  p.m.,  and  between  tha.t  time  and  mid- 
night each  one.  must  turn  cake  once.  When  clock  strikes 
twelve  future  wife  or  husband  of  one  who  is  to  be  married 
first  will  enter  and  lay  hand  on  cake  marked  with  name. 
Throughout  whole  proceeding  not  a  word  is  spoken.  Hence 
the  name  "dumb  cake."  (If  supper  is  served  before  11.30, 
"Dumb  Cake"  should  be  reserved  for  one  o.  the  After- 
Supper  Tests.) 

27.  TRUE-LOVER  TEST. 
Two  hazel-nuts  are  thrown  into  hot  coals  by  maiden,  who 
secretly  gives  a  lover's  name  to  each.  If  one  nut  bursts, 
then  that  lover  is  unfaithful ;  but  if  it  burns  with  steady  glow 
until  it  becomes  ashes,  she  knows  that  her  lover  is  true. 
Sometimes  it  happens,  but  not  often,  that  both  nuts  burn 
steadily,  and  then  the  maiden's  heart  is  sore  perplexed. 

28.  APPLE-PIP  TEST. ' 

Cut  an  apple  open  and  pick  out  seeds  or  pips  from  core.     If 

only  two  pips  are  found,  they  portend  early  marriage ;  three, 

legacy;   four,  great  wealth;   five,  sea  voyage;   six,  great  fame 

as  orator  or  singer;  seven,  possession  of  any  gift  most  desired. 

29.  APPLES  AND  FLOUR. 
Suspend  horizontally  from  ceiling  stick  three  feet  long. 
On  one  end  stick  an  apple,  upon  other  tie  small  bag  of  flour. 
Set  stick  whirling.  Each  guest  takes  turn  in  trying  to  bite 
apple-end  of  stick.  It  is  amusing  to  see  guests  receive  dabs 
of  flour  on  face.  Guest  who  first  succeeds  in  biting  apple 
gets  prize. 


42  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

30.  APPLE  PARING. 
Each  guest,  receiving  apple  and  knife,  is  requested  to  peel 
apple  without  breaking;  then  swing  paring  around  head,  and 
let  it  drop  to  floor.  The  letter  formed  is  initial  of  future 
mate's  name.  Or,  you  may  hang  your  paring  over  door — 
the  first  of  opposite  sex  to  pass  under  will  be  your  mate. 

31.  THE  FOUR  SAUCERS. 
Place  four  saucers  on  table  in  line.  Into  first  put  dirt; 
into  second,  water;  into  third,  a  ring;  into  fourth,  a  rag. 
Guests  are  blindfolded  and  led  round  table  twice,  then  told 
to  go  alone  and  put  fingers  into  saucer.  If  they  put  into 
dirt,  it  means  divorce;  into  water,  a  trip  across  ocean;  where 
ring  is,  to  marry;  where  rag  is,  never  to  marry. 

32.  RING  AND  GOBLET. 
Tie  wedding-ring  or  key  to  silken  thread  or  horse-hair,  and 
hold  it   suspended  within   a  glass;    then   say  the   alphabet 
slowly;    whenever  ring  strikes  glass,  begin  over  again  and 
in  this  way  spell  name  of  future  mate. 

33.  APPLE  SEEDS. 
Name  two  wet  apple  seeds  and  stick  them  on  forehead. 
First  seed  to  fall  indicates  that  the  person  for  whom  seed  is 
named  is  not  a  true  lover. 

34.  NECKLACE. 
Make  barrel-hoop  into  a  necklace  of  bread,  candies,  red 
peppers  and  candle-ends,  and  hang  horizontally  from  ceiling. 
Set  hoop  whirling  and  try  to  grasp  its  freight  with  your  teeth. 
Accordingly  as  vou  like  your  first  bite  will  you  enjoy  married 
life. 

35.  CUPID'S  TIME. 

To  know  when  Cupid  shall  mark  you  for  his  own,  place 
twelve  lighted  candles  on  floor  in  rows  of  three.  Jump  over 
each  of  them  in  turn;  if  none  blow  out,  you  will  marry  in  a 
year.     Each  candle  blown  out  represents  a  year,  and  if  all 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  43 

are  put  out,  you  can  resign  yourself  to  life  of  single-blessed- 
ness. 

36.  LAUNCHING  OF  THE  BOATS. 

A  tub  of  water  is  placed  on  table.  Hostess  lights  candle 
and  gives  each  guest  a  boat  made  from  half  an  English  wal- 
nut shell  containing  taper  an  inch  long.  These  tapers  are  of 
as  many  colors  as  possible,  so  that  each  may  recognize  his 
boat;  and  when  there  are  not  enough  colors  to  go  around, 
the  remaining  shells  are  painted.  The  tapers  are  fastened  in 
with  wax.  At  signal,  each  couple  lights  tapers  at  hostess's 
taper  and  at  stroke  of  gong  all  launch  boats.  A  witch's  wand 
sets  water  in  motion,  and  fates  are  decided  by  course  of  vari- 
ous vessels.  If  your  own  and  partner's  boat  sail  staunchly 
side  by  side,  the  inference  is  obvious;  if  they  jostle  each 
other,  woe  for  the  love,  which,  however  true,  does  not  run 
smooth.  Boats  which  cross  but  part  way  and  remain  whirl- 
ing helplessly  round,  or  drifting  hither  and  thither,  do  not 
promise  successful,  well-rounded  life;  while,  if  they  cling  to 
edge  and  fear  to  take  their  chance,  their  owners  will  lack 
enterprise.  The  length  of  time  each  candle  burns  foretells 
length  of  owner's  life;  one  which  burns  longest  betokens 
first  bride  or  bridegroom. 

8.  MARCH  TO  SUPPER. 

Method  of  Securing  Partners  for  Supper. 

Supper  partners  are  secured  by  drawing  lots  from  two 
baskets  or  dishes  of  English  walnuts  which  have  been  pre- 
pared as  follows: 

Cut  English  walnuts  open,  being  careful  not  to  break  the 
half  shells;  remove  the  meat  and  place- inside  one  raisin,  or 
one  pea,  bean,  filbert,  or  one  other  similar  thing;  tie  the  two 
half  shells  together  with  fancy  ribbon.  Make  the  contents 
of  two  walnuts  just  alike  and  keep  the  walnuts  apart,  placing 
one  in  one  dish  and  the  other  in  another  dish,  making  enough 
so  that  every  guest  will  have  one.  When  supper-time  comes, 
pass  one  dish  to  the  men  and  the  other  dish  to  the  women. 


44  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

each  man  and  each  woman  taking  a  walnut,  and  the  man  and 
woman  whose  walnuts  have  similar  contents  are  supper 
partners. 

When  all  have  partners,  they  form  in  couples  and  march  to 
supper  to  "  Dead  March  "  in  "  Saul."     (Price,  35c.) 

o.  SUPPER  AND  SUPPER  GAMES. 

Supper  should  be  unique.  Fun,  good  humor,  and  general 
good-fellowship  should  prevail. 

As  soon  as  guests  reach  table,  hostess  asks  all  to  unmask 
and  be  seated.  Hostess  passes  basket  of  beans  and  each 
guest  takes  a  handful  and  counts  them.  One  securing  most 
beans  has  first  privilege  of  cutting  Fortune  Cake  at  center 
of  table;  next  highest,  second,  and  so  on  around  table. 

Hostess  says:  "Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  arranged 
with  great  care,  as  you  see,  a  fine  supper.  You  will  confer 
a  great  favor  by  keeping  to  yourselves  the  wonders  and 
secrets  you  discover.  Do  not  let  your  neighbor  know  what 
you  discover." 

SUGGESTIVE   MENU. 

1. 

Bouillon,  Cream  Soup,  or  Creamed  Oysters. 

Rolled  Sandwiches  with  Lettuce  and  Mayonnaise. 

2. 
Chicken  or  Lobster  Salad. 
Cheese  Straws. 
Mashed  Potatoes. 

3- 

Water  Ice  (pumpkin-  or  corn-ear  shaped),  or  Sherbet  Glass. 

Fortune  Cake. 

4- 

Conundrum  Walnuts.  Fortune  Balls. 

Apples. 

5- 
Hallowe'en  Cake. 
Funny  Pumpkin. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  45 


DIRECTIONS   FOR    SERVING   SUPPER. 

Serve  bouillon  and  cream  soup  in  cups.  "Serve  creamed 
oysters  in  prettily  decorated  paper  cups  set  on  cabbage  leaves 
so  arranged  as  to  look  like  flower  petals  around  cup. 

Serve  chicken  and  lobster  salad  with  cheese  straws  on  a 
plate. 

Serve  mashed  potatoes  in  a  large  bowl.     Prepare  as  follows : 

Allow  one  potato  to  three  persons;  mash  and  press  into 
a  deep  bowl;  when  cold,  press  into  potato  a  ring,  thimble, 
key,  and  dime.  Each  guest  takes  a  tablespoonful  of  potato. 
The  guest  getting  ring  will  be  married  in  a  year;  the  one 
finding  thimble  will  never  marry,  the  one  finding  dime  will 
be  rich,  or  will  receive  a  legacy;  the  key  means  a  journey. 

Water  ices  follow  the  potatoes.  Water  ice  in  pumpkin 
form  should  be  colored  orange  color;  ear  of  corn  should  be 
cream-colored  ice  with  pistache-colored  husks  turned  back 
toward  end  displaying  ear  of  corn.  If  you  do  not  care  for 
ices  in  fancy  fashion,  prepare  sherbet  glass  as  follows:  Fill 
glass  half  full  of  sliced  oranges,  pineapples,  and  bananas; 
cover  with  powdered  sugar  and  a  little  sherry,  finish  with  a 
layer  of  delicate  lemon  ice  completely  covering  the  front. 
Smooth  top  until  level. 

Serve  the  Fortune  Cake  after  ices.  Fortune  Cake  may 
be  made  same  as  gold  cake  and  a  ring  pressed  in  bottom  after 
it  is  baked,  or  it  may  be  made  of  bran  and  water  so  that  it  is 
hard  and  stiff,  and  the  ring  be  mixed  into  it.     The  whole 


i-6  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

should  be  iced  on  outside  so  that  it  looks  like  real  cake.  Cake 
is  cut  by  guest  who  has  most  number  of  beans. 

With  the  coffee  are  passed  .Conundrum  Walnuts  (nuts  with 
meats  taken  out  and  conundrums  written  on  slips  placed 
within,  and  both  half  shells  tied  with  baby  ribbon),  also 
platter  of  Fortune  Balls  (balls  made  of  popcorn  containing 
some  line  about  future),  and  plate  of  apples,  in  center  of 
which  are  fancy  souvenirs. 

After  reading  and  guessing  of  conundrums  and  reading  of 
future  fates,  Hallowe'en  Cake  is  placed  on  table. 

(Hallowe'en  Cake  is  made  of  a  series  of  white  pasteboard 
boxes,  pie-shaped,  which  fit  into  one  another  and  give  appear- 
ance of  large  cake.  Each  box  should  be  covered  with  icing 
and  contain  some  dainty  souvenir,  except  six  boxes,  and 
these  six  boxes  should  contain  one  of  the  following:  thimble, 
dime,  mitten,  fool's-cap,  key,  ring.) 

Each  guest  takes  a  piece  of  cake  and  the  one  who  gets 
ring  marries  first;  one  who  gets  thimble  never  marries; 
dime  winner  will  be  rich ;  mitten  winner  will  get  mitten  from 
his  best  girl;  fool's-cap  will  have  to  wear  cap  rest  of  evening; 
key  winner  will  take  a  long  journey. 

After  fun  has  subsided,  hostess  brings  in  the  Funny  Pump- 
kin. 

(Funny  Pumpkin  has  pulp  taken  out  from  top  and  is 
filled  with  funny  bats,  witches,  owls,  cats,  lucky  shoes,  etc., 
with  long  streamers  of  ribbons  attached,  ribbons  hanging 
over  outside  of  pumpkin.) 

Hostess  places  Funny  Pumpkin  on  table  and  arranges 
ends  of  ribbons  in  direction  of  each  guest.  Hostess  tells 
each  guest  to  take  hold  of  ribbon.  When  all  are  ready  each 
guest  pulls  gently  and  gets  a  souvenir. 

After  Hallowe'en  Pumpkin  hostess  tells  guests  to  rise, 
when  food,  etc.,  is  removed  and  table  shoved  aside.  Guests 
stand  in  elliptical  position;  hostess  requests  each  one  to 
count  from  one  to  thirteen  and  the  next  one  following  thir- 
teen to  begin  with  one  again.  Hostess  starts  with  "one," 
and  counting  goes  around  by  way  of  right.     When  all  have 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVLTIES.  47 

counted,  hostess  announces  that  each  number  thirteen  will 
be  an  old  maid  or  old  bachelor. 

Hostess  requests  each  guest  to  take  five  bay  leaves  from 
table  and  when  they  get  home  to  pin  one  leaf  at  each  cor- 
ner of  pillow  and  one  at  center.  Each  leaf  is  to  be  named 
for  one  of  the  opposite  sex ;  the  one  they  dream  of  is  destined 
wife  or  husband. 

Hostess  has  three  supper  candles  placed  in  window  which 
is  opened  and  shades  are  raised.  She  requests  each  guest  to 
name  each  candle  for  a  sweetheart,  and  watch  and  see  which 
candle  puffs  out  first,  which  flickers  in  the  breeze,  which 
burns  brightly,  telling  them  the  one  that  puffs  out  first  doesn't 
love;  the  flickering  candle  means  lover  is  wavering,  uncertain; 
brightly  burning  candle  means  a  devoted  lover. 

Hostess  asks  guests  to  go  to  retiring-room  wTith  ghostly 
attire  and  return  in  ordinary  attire  to  room  (where  fireplace 
is)  for  sports. 


10.  AFTER-SUPPER   SPORTS,  GAMES,  MYSTERIES. 

After  supper  it  is  customary  to  go  to  parlor  or  hall  with 
open  fireplace,  and  with  low  light,  pop  chestnuts  in  coals 
and  repeat  magic  spells  and  witcheries  of  the  night,  or  tell 
creepy  tales  of  midnight  experiences,  usually  broken  in  upon 
by  laughing,  hooting  friends,  fairies,  spooks,  who  go  tearing 
madly  about  in  hilarious  jollification  to  cause  fright. 

i.  YOUR  LUCKY  STICKS. 

Hostess  stands  with  two  bundles  of  sticks,  one  under  each 
arm,  with  ends  only  exposed  and  requests  each  guest  as  he 
enters  to  take  one.  The  kind  of  stick — long  or  short,  straight 
or  crooked,  plain  or  smooth,  or  knotty — indicates  kind  of 
future  partner.  To  each  stick  is  attached  some  article  pre- 
dicting business  or  style  of  person. 


48  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 


SUGGESTIVE  ARTICLES  TO  BE  ATTACHED. 

For  Women:  Small  bottle,  a  physician;  roll  of  cloth,  a 
merchant;  bit  of  goods  with  needle,  a  tailor;  anchor,  a 
sailor;  flag,  a  soldier;  bit  of  coal  or  iron,  a  miner;  bit  of 
earth,  a  farmer's  wife;  bits  of  wood,  a  lumberman;  book,  a 
writer;  roll  of  paper,  a  journalist;  pen,  a  lawyer;  penny,  for 
gold;  brass,  a  gambler;  nothing,  failure;  two  sticks  together, 
two  husbands  or  wives;  box  of  matches,  to  light  the  fire  for 
your  future  husband;  ball  of  twine,  so  he  won't  get  away. 

For  Men:  Comic  valentines  of  different  subjects,  or  small 
pictures  representing  gold-girls,  poster-girls,  Gibson  girls,  are 
tied  to  each  stick.  Japanese  dolls,  pig-tail,  tape-measure, 
clay  pipe  with  instructions  for  use,  huge  slippers  made  of 
canvas  or  burlap,  dressing-gown  of  paper,  dunce-cap,  pair 
of  paper  suspenders  tied  in  tissue  paper  with  baby  ribbon. 


2.  FAGOT  GHOST  STORIES. 

(Seepages  83-119  for  suggestive  styles  of  ghost  stories.) 

All  may  be  invited  to  sit  on  floor  in  circle.  At  center  of 
circle  hostess  places  a  table  on  which  is  a  dish  of  salt  covered 
with  burning  alcohol.  Then  each  guest  receives  a  fagot. 
Hostess  takes  one  and  lights  it  and  begins  to  tell  a  ghost 
story.  When  fagot  is  burned  out  she  stops.  The  first  per- 
son to  her  left  tells  a  story  after  she  has  lighted  a  fagot  and 
the  story  ceases  with  fagot.  Stories  should  be  awful,  grew- 
some,  ghostly. 


FORTUNE-TELLING. 

(See  pages  79,  82  for  suggestive  fortune-telling.) 

Next  should  come  the  Fire  Tests  of  chestnuts,  etc.  Mean- 
while hostess  has  disappeared,  and  returns  dressed  as  a  for- 
tune-teller.    She   offers   to  tell   fortunes   or  read   character. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES,  49 


GAMES. 

i.  GAME  OF  FATE. 

Guests  take  part,  seated  in  a  circle  Three  Fates  are 
chosen,  one  of  whom  whispers  to  each  person  in  turn  name 
of  his  (her)  future  sweetheart.  Second  Fate  follows,  whisper- 
ing to  each  where  he  (she)  will  next  meet  his  (her)  sweetheart ; 
as,  "You  will  meet  on  a  load  of  hay,"  or,  "at  a  picnic,"  or, 
"at  church,"  or,  "on  the  river,"  etc.  The  third  Fate  reveals 
the  future;  as,  "You  will  marry  him  (her)  next  Christmas," 
or,  "You  will  be  separated  many  years  by  a  quarrel,  but  will 
finally  marry,"  or,  "Neither  of  you  will  ever  marry,"  etc. 
Each  guest  must  remember  what  is  said  by  the  Fates;  then 
each  in  turn  repeats  aloud  what  has  been  told  him  (her). 
For  example,  "My  future  sweetheart's  name  is  Obednego; 
I  shall  meet  him  next  Wednesday  on  the  Moonlight  Excur- 
sion, and  we  shall  be  married  in  a  week." 

2.  PULLING  KALE. 

All  are  blindfolded  and  go  out  singly  or  hand-in-hand  to 
garden.  Groping  about  they  pull  up  first  stalk  of  kale  or 
head  of  cabbage.  If  stalk  comes  up  easily  the  sweetheart 
will  be  easy  to  win;  if  the  reverse,  hard  to  win.  The  shape 
of  the  stump  will  hint  at  figure  of  prospective  wife  or  hus- 
band. Its  length  will  suggest  age.  If  much  soil  clings  to 
it,  life-partner  will  be  rich;  if  not,  poor.  Finally,  the  stump 
is  carried  home  and  hung  over  door,  first  person  outside  of 
family  who  passes  under  it  will  bear  a  name  whose  initial 
is  same  as  that  of  sweetheart. 


50  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

3.  WINDING  YARN. 

Throw  a  ball  of  yarn  out  of  window  but  hold  fast  to  one 
end  and  begin  to  wind.  As  you  wind  say,  ' '  I  wind,  who 
holds?"  over  and  over  again;  before  end  of  yarn  is  reached, 
face  of  future  partner  will  appear  in  window,  or  name  of 
sweetheart  will  be  whispered  in  ear. 

4.  WINNOWING  CORN. 

Steal  out  into  barn  or  garden  alone  and  go  three  times 
through  motions  of  throwing  corn  against  the  wind.  The 
third  time  an  apparition  of  future  spouse  will  pass  you;  in 
some  mysterious  manner,  also,  you  may  obtain  an  idea  of 
his  (her)  employment  and  station  in  life. 

5.  WATER  EXPERIMENT. 

A  Ifeughable  experiment  consists  in  filling  mouth  with  water 
and  walking  around  house  or  block  without  swallowing  or 
spilling  a  drop.  First  person  of  opposite  sex  you  meet  is 
your  fate.  A  clever  hostess  will  send  two  unsuspecting 
lovers  by  different  doors;  they  are  sure  to  meet,  and  not 
unfrequently  settle  matters  then  and  there. 

6.  MAGIC  STAIRS. 

Walk  downstairs  backward,  holding  lighted  candle  over 
your  head.  Upon  reaching  bottom,  turn  suddenly  and 
before  you  will  stand  your  wished-for  one. 

7.  LOVERS'  TEST. 

A  maid  and  youth  each  places  a  chestnut  to  roast  on  fire, 
side  by  side.  If  one  hisses  and  steams,  it  indicates  a  fretful 
temper  in  owner  of  chestnut;   if  both  chestnuts  equally  mis- 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  51 

behave  it  augurs  strife.  If  one  or  both  pop  away,  it  means 
separation ;  but  if  both  burn  to  ashes  tranquilly  side  by  side, 
a  long  life  of  undisturbed  happiness  will  be  lot  of  owners. 

These  portentous  omens  are  fitly  defined  in  the  following 
lines : 

"  These  glowing  nuts  are  emblems  true 
Of  what  in  human  life  we  view ; 
The  ill -matched  couple  fret  and  fume, 
And  thus  in  strife  themselves  consume ; 
Or  from  each  other  wildly  start, 
And  with  a  noise  forever  part. 
But  see  the  happy,  happy  pair, 
Of  genuine  love  and  truth  sincere ; 
With  mutual  fondness  while  they  burn, 
Still  to  each  other  kindly  turn ; 
And  as  the  vital  sparks  decay, 
Together  gently  sink  away ; 
Till  life's  fierce  trials  being  past, 
Their  mingled  ashes  rest  at  last." 


8.  AROUND  THE  WALNUT  TREE. 

Of  all  Hallowe'en  spells  and  charms  associated  with  nuts, 
the  following  is  one  of  the  oldest :  If  a  young  man  or  woman 
goes  at  midnight  on  Hallowe'en  to  a  walnut  tree  and  walks 
around  three  times,  crying  out  each  time,  "Let  him  (her) 
that  is  to  be  my  true  love  bring  me  some  walnuts,"  future 
wife  or  husband  will  be  seen  in  tree  gathering  fruit. 


9.  WHERE  DWELLS  MY  LOVER? 

Steal  out  unobserved  at  midnight;    plucking  a  small  lock 
of  hair  from  your  head,  cast  it  to  breeze.      Whatever  direc- 


52  WERNER'S   READINGS   No.  SI. 

tion  it  is  blown  is  believed  to  be  location  of  future  matri- 
monial partner. 

"  I  pluck  this  lock  of  hair  off  my  head 
To  tell  whence  comes  the  one  I  shall  wed. 
Fly,  silken  hair,  fly  all  the  world  around 
Until  you  reach  the  spot  where  my  true  love  is  found." 

10.  THE  MIRROR. 

Walk  backward  several  feet  out  of  doors  in  moonlight 
with  mirror  in  your  hand,  or  within  doors  with  candle  in 
one  hand  and  mirror  in  the  other,  repeating  following  rhyme, 
and  face  of  your  future  companion  will  appear  in  glass : 

"  Round  and  round,  O  stars  so  fair! 
Ye  travel  and  search  out  everywhere ; 
I  pray  you,  sweet  stars,  now  show  to  me 
This  night  who  my  future  husband  (wife)  shall  be." 

ii.  MELTING  LEAD. 

Each  guest  in  turn  melts  lead  and  poUrs  it  through  a 
wedding-ring  or  key  into  dish  of  water.  Have  one  person 
dressed  as  fortune-teller  who  tells  what  the  shapes  in  water 
mean. 

12.  DUCKING  FOR  APPLES. 

Tie  hands  of  contestants  behind.  Fill  tub  with  water  and 
on  bottom  place  a  dozen  apples.  In  centre  of  each  apple  is 
an  initial.  Each  player  may  draw  two  apples.  Or  each 
player  may  try  to  draw  as  many  apples  as  he  can.  The  one 
winning  most  gets  prize.  If  apples  have  initials,  they  are 
supposed  to  represent  initials  of  loved  one's  name. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  53 

HOME   TESTS. 

Hostess  usually  prepares  a  set  of  Home  Tests  for  each  guest, 
and  after  the  evening's  games  are  over  gives  each  guest  a  set 
and  tells  him  (or  her)to  try  it  at  home  that  night  before  retirinr. 

i.  TWO    ROSES. 
Take  two  roses  with  long  stems.     Name  one  for  yourself 
and  one  for  your  lover.     Go  to  your  room  without  speaking 
to  anyone;  kneel  beside  bed;  twine  stems  of  roses  together, 
and  repeat  following  lines,  gazing  intently  on  lover's  rose: 

"  Twine,  twine,  and  intertwine, 
Let  my  love  be  wholly  thine. 
If  his  heart  be  kind  and  true, 
Deeper  grow  his  rose's  hue." 

If  your  swain  is  faithful,  color  of  rose  will  grow  darker. 


2.  TO  TEST  FRIENDS. 

To  know  how  any  friend  feels  toward  you,  do  this:  Sup- 
posing your  name  to  be  Katherine  Smith,  or  Frank  Carter 
Parker,  write  it  out  in  full  as  shown  in  Figs,  i  and  2.  Under 
your  name  write  your  friend's  name,  as  shown  in  Figs.  3  and  4. 

Cancel  in  both  names  all  similar  letters,  as  shown  in  Figs.  5 
and  6.  For  the  sake  of  clearness,  let  us  go  through  the  test 
with  the  first  two  names. 

K,  the  first  letter  in  the  first  name,  is  not  found  in  "Mary 
Hallon,"  so  it  is  left  in;  A  is  found  in  both  names,  so  A  is 
crossed  out;  T,  the  next  letter,  is  not  found  in  second  name, 
so  it  is  left  in;  H  is  in  both  names,  so  it  is  crossed  out;  E  is 
left  in;  R  is  crossed  out;  I  is  left  in;  N  is  crossed  out;  second 
E  is  left  in;  S  is  left  in;  second  M  is  crossed  out;  second  I  is 
left  in;  second  T  is  left  in;  final  H  is  crossed  out.  All  this 
canceling  gives  us  Figs.  5  and  6. 

Speak  aloud  one  of  the  following  potent  words  for  each 
canceled  letter: 


54  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


FRIENDSHIP— LOVE— INDIFFERENCE— HATE. 

KATHERINE  SMITH 
Figure  No.  i. 

FRANK  CARTER  PARKER 
Figure  No.  2. 

KATHERINE  SMITH 

MARY  HALLON 

Figure  No.  3. 

FRANK  CARTER  PARKER 

JAMES  DOUGLAS  BASSE 

Figure  No.  4. 

KATHERINE  SMITH  =  Love 

MARY  HALLON  =  Love 

Figure  No.  5. 

FRANK  CARTER  PARKE R  =  Friendship 

JAMES  DOUGLAS  BASSE  =  Friendship 

Figure  No.  6. 


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HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITLES.  55 

You  find  by  this  test  that  the  girls  love  each  other  and  that 
the  boys  are  friends.  Try  your  names  with  the  names  of 
other  friends.  Results  will  constantly  vary.  Test  the 
names  of  two  friends. 

3.  NAMING  BEDPOSTS. 

Before  your  first  nap  on  last  day  of  October  name  four 
bedposts,  first  being  "Art;"  second,  "Science;"  third, 
"Literature;"  fourth,  "Business."  The  post  you  see  first 
on  awakening  will  indicate  your  future  vocation.  Should 
your  eyes  first  rest  on  post  called  "Art,"  many  beautiful 
things  are  in  store  for  you.  If  "Science"  post  is  first  seen 
you  will  acquire  deep  learning,  etc.  Be  sure  not  to  get 
posts  confused;  remember  order  in  which  they  have  been 
named. 

4.  NEW  FRIENDS. 

Old  friends  cannot  be  too  highly  valued,  but  new  ones 
also  frequently  prove  joys  in  our  lives.  To  know  how  many 
new  friends  you  will  make  ensuing  year,  count  number  of 
buttons  on  dress  or  coat  of  first  person  the  fairies  send  to 
your  room  after  twelve  o'clock  noon,  October  31.  Should 
some  one  enter  whose  clothing  shows  no  buttons,  you  will 
be  obliged  to  rest  content  for  a  whole  year  with  the  friends 
you  already  have. 

5.  MIRROR  AND  APPLE. 

Stand  in  front  of  mirror  in  dimly-lighted  room  and  eat  an 
apple.  If  your  lover  reciprocates  your  love  he  will  appear 
behind  you  and  look  over  your  right  shoulder  and  ask  for  a 
piece  of  apple. 

6.  THE  DREAMER. 

If  a  maid  wishes  to  know  whom  she  is  to  marry,  if  to  a 
man  of  wealth,  tradesman,  or  traveler,  let  her,  on  All-Hal- 
lowe'en, take   a  walnut,  hazelnut,  and  nutmeg;    grate   and 


56  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

mix  them  with  butter  and  sugar  into  pills,  and  take  when 
she  goes  to  bed;  and  then,  if  her  fortune  be  to  marry  a  rich 
man,  her  sleep  will  be  filled  with  gold  dreams;  if  a  tradesman, 
she  will  dream  of  odd  noises  and  tumults ;  if  a  traveler,  there 
will  be  thunder  and  lightning  to  disturb  her. 

7.  WOOD  AND  WATER. 

A  quaint  book  of  charms,  published  in  1690,  declares 
that  an  infallible  means  of  getting  a  glimpse  of  future  hus- 
band or  wife  is  to  go  to  bed  on  Hallowe'en  with  a  glass  of 
water  containing  a  sliver  of  wood,  standing  on  table  by  bed- 
side. You  will  dream  of  falling  from  a  bridge  into  a  river, 
and  of  being  rescued  by  your  future  wife  or  husband,  whom 
you  will  see  distinctly.  This  charm  is  thus  alluded  to  by 
Gay: 

"  Last  Hallow  Eve  I  looked  my  love  to  see, 
And  tried  a  spell  to  call  her  up  to  me. 
With  wood  and  water  standing  by  my  side, 
I  dreamed  a  dream  and  saw  my  own  sweet  bride." 

8.  DRY  BREAD. 

Dreams  mean  much  on  Hallowe'en,  but  certain  ceremonies 
must  be  carefully  followed  in  order  to  insure  the  spell.  Be- 
fore going  to  sleep  for  the  night  have  some  one  bring  a  small 
piece  of  dry  bread.  No  word  can  be  spoken  after  this; 
silence  must  prevail.  Eat  bread  slowly,  at  same  time  making 
a  wish  and  thinking  the  pleasantest  thing  imaginable.  Then 
drop  off  to  sleep,  and  your  dreams  will  be  sweet  and  peaceful, 
and  your  wish  will  come  true,  if  the  charm  works. 

9.  APPLE  SEEDS. 

Apple  seeds  act  as  charms  on  Hallowe'en.  Stick  one  on 
each  eyelid  and  name  one  "Home"  and  the  other  "Travel." 
If  seed  named  "Travel"  stays  on  longer,  you  will  go  on  a 
journey  before  year  expires.  If  "Home"  clings  better,  you 
will  remain  home.     Again,  take  all  the  apple  seeds,  place 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  57 

them  on  back  of  outspread  left  hand  and  with  loosely  clenched 
right  hand  strike  palm  of  left.  This  will  cause  some,  if  not 
all,  of  seeds  to  fall.  Those  left  on  hand  show  number  of 
letters  you  will  receive  the  coming  fortnight.  Should  all 
seeds  drop,  you  must  wait  patiently  for  your  mail. 

Put  twelve  apple  seeds  carefully  one  side  while  you  cut 
twelve  slips  of  blank  paper  exactly  alike,  and  on  one  side  of 
each  write  name  of  friend.  Turn  them  all  over  with  blanks 
uppermost  and  mix  them  so  that  you  will  not  know  which 
is  which;  then,  holding  seeds  in  your  left  hand,  repeat: 

"  One  I  love, 
Two  I  love, 

Three  I  love  I  say; 
Four  I  love  with  all  my  heart  and 
Five  I  cast  away. 
Six  he  loves, 
Seven  she  loves, 
Eight  they  both  love ; 

Nine  he  comes, 
Ten  he  tarries, 

Eleven  he  courts  and 
Twelve  he  marries." 

Stop  at  each  line  to  place  a  seed  on  a  paper,  and  turn  slip 
over  to  discover  name  of  one  you  love  or  cast  away.  Con- 
tinue matching  apple  seeds  with  papers  as  you  count,  until 
all  twelve  seeds  and  twelve  papers  are  used. 

10.  COMBING  HAIR  BEFORE  MIRROR. 

Stand  alone  before  mirror,  and  by  light  of  candle  comb 
your  hair;  face  of  your  future  partner  will  appear  in  glass, 
peeping  over  your  shoulder. 


5S  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

A  Hallowe'en   Supper. 

PUMPKIN  CENTER-PIECE. 

Select  a  round  vegetable  and  cut  with  sharp  knife  so  as 
to  form  a  bucket  handle  on  each  side;  scoop  out  mem- 
biane  and  seeds;  rub  outside  with  flannel  until  polished; 
then  fill  with  polished  autumnal  fruit;  set  on  plate  and 
i  wreath  with  foliage. 

GRAPE  PUDDING. 

Soak  half  a  box  of  gelatine  in  half  cupful  of  cold  water 
until  soft;   add  one  cup  of  boiling  water,  juice  of  one  lemon 
one  cup  of  sugar,  one  pint  of  grape  juice;   set  on  ice  and  stir 
until  it  commences  to  stiffen;   then  fold  in  two  stiffly  beaten 
egg  whites;    turn  into  mold;    when  firm,  unmold  and  gat 
nish  with  bunch  of  grapes. 

CHICKEN  SALAD  ROLLS. 

Remove  soft  crumb  from  Parker  House  rolls,  then  fill 
cavities  with  chicken  salad,  seasoned  with  celery  cut  in 
small  pieces,  boiled  cream  dressing,  paprika  and  salt;  serve 
on  fringed  napkin  and  garnish  with  nasturtium  pods,  blos- 
soms, and  leaves,  or  any  autumnal  blossoms  at  hand  can  be 
artistically  used. 

MELON  CREAM. 

Cut  sections  from  small  muskmelons  so  as  to  leave  every 
other  rib  fastened  at  top  and  bottom;  remove  membrane 
and  seeds  and  fill  center  with  delicately  flavored  cream; 
serve  one  melon  to  each  person,  arranging  on  grape  foliage. 
If  preferred,  lemon  ice  can  be  used  instead. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVITIES.  59 

FORTUNE  CAKE. 
Cream  i\  cups  of  sugar,  f  cup  of  butter;  add  juice  and  rind 
of  half  a  lemon,  2  cups  of  flour,  stiffly  beaten  whites  of  7  eggs, 
\  teaspoon  of  baking  soda  sifted  with  flour,  \  cup  of  candied 
citron,  \  cup  of  blanched  almonds;  drop  in  a  heart,  thimble, 
ring,  and  dime,  and  bake.     Ice  when  cold. 

FRIED  CAKES. 
Cream  1  cup  sugar,  2  tablespoons  unmelted  lard;  add  2  eggs, 
\  teaspoon  grated  nutmeg,  if  cups  sweet  milk,  \  teaspoon  salt, 
1  level  teaspoon  baking  soda,  2  level  teaspoons  cream  of  tar- 
tar, flour  enough  to  make  soft  dough;  fry  golden  brown  in 
deep,  smoking  fat.     Sugar  when  cold. 

ORANGE  STRAWS. 
Cut  peel  into  strips  after  removing  white  membrane,  soak 
in  cold  water  for  two  hours;    wipe  dry.     Boil  two  cup's  of 
sugar  with  one  of  water  until  syrup  threads;    dip  straws  in 
this ;  lay  on  oiled  paper  until  next  day.  . 

SALTED  NUT-MEATS. 
Blanch  any  kind  of  nut -meats  by  scalding  them  with  boil- 
ing water,  dash  on  cold  water,  then  rub  off  brown  skin;    dry 
on  cloth;    mix  with  little  olive  oil;    sprinkle  with  salt  and 
brown  in  moderate  oven. 

POP-CORN  BALLS. 

Boil  one  pint  of  New  Orleans  molasses  and  three-quarters 
of  cup  of  sugar  until  brittle  when  dropped  in  water;  then 
pour  over  popped  corn;  mix  thoroughly;  press  together 
into  balls  and  place  on  buttered  plate  until  it  becomes  cold. 
A  simple  prize  may  be  placed  in  each. 

CIDER-FLIP. 
Place  two  quarts  of  sweet  cider  in  tall  pitcher;  add  few 
slices  of  lemon;  just  before  serving  turn  in  juice  of  three 
lemons;  serve  with  straws  and  use  thin  glasses.  For  a  cold 
night  cider  can  be  made  hot.  Cider  for  this  must  be  fresh 
and  very  sweet. 


6o 


WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


Ghost  Dance. 


Invitations:    Written   on    black   cards    with   white    ink. 
Draw  tiny  skull  and  cross-bones  in  one  corner  of  cards. 

Invitation  Form. 


\                                                       : .....    - 
"  I  can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep." 

A  GHOST  DANCE. 

Your  shade  is  expected  to  attend 

A  Ghostly  Gathering  which  will  haunt 

mi          t                      „r                              _„    /~v     +.     -L„_   +Ui     4-         C        4- 

i ne  nouse  oi               on  wctoDer  inirty-nrsu 

at  eight  and  a- half  o'clock. 

Wear  sheet  and  mask  of  white. 

All  conversation  or  loving 

remarks  must  be  made 

in  disguised  voice 

until  after  un- 

masking. 

R.  S.  V.  P. 

Points  for  Hostess:  Inform  guests  before  dance  that 
sheet  is  to  be  so  draped  over  head  and  about  body  that 
no  one  can  tell  before  unmasking  whether  ghost  is  man  or 
woman.  A  good  way  to  drape  a  sheet  is  to  have  one  cor- 
ner cover  hair  and  part  of  face  while  the  rest  is  draped  and 
safely  pinned  about  body.  Mask  can  be  a  square  piece  of 
white  muslin  with  eye,  nose,  and  mouth  holes  cut  in.  Such 
a  mask  can  be  tied  about  head,  and  will  completely  disguise 
face.     For  decorations,  see  page  15. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  6 1 

DANCE  PROGRAM. 

Dance  Music  :  Musicians  are  seated  behind  white  sheets 
and  play  weird  music  only.  Dancing  before  supper  may 
consist  of: 

Hallowe'en  Waltz:  Regular  waltz ;  only  when  one  couple 
meet  another  they  exchange  partners.  At  finish  each  re- 
ceives a  suitable  souvenir. 

Hallowe'en  Frolic:  Hostess  asks  four  to  dance  a  two- 
step  around  room  once,  then  each  selects  a  partner  from, 
audience  and  dances  around  room  once  again.  After  second 
round,  each  dancer  chooses  a  partner,  and  so  on,  until  all 
are  dancing.  A  table  of  favors  may  be  brought  in,  and  each 
guest  gets  one.  Witches,  ghosts,  skull  and  cross-bones,  etc., 
are  very  suitable. 

Hallowe'en  Lancers  (Saratoga  Lanciers)  may  then  fol- 
low; and,  when  finished,  Hallowe'en  nuts  (walnuts  with  ker- 
nels taken  out,  and  love  mottoes  inserted)  are  given  each 
one  with  request  to  keep  them  until  supper,  and  at  proper 
time  read  them  to  guests  at  table. 

Ghost  Dance:  Each  ghost  waltzes  by  himself  until  he 
meets  another,  when  he  waltzes  with  him,  and  so  on  until 
music  suddenly  stops.  When  music  stops,  the  last  person 
danced  with  is  partner  for  supper.  All  form  in  couples  and 
march  to  dining-room  to  "Dead  March"  in  "Saul." 

SUPPER  (suggestive). 

See  page  44  for  menu,  and  for  directions  for  preparing 
and  serving. 

When  all  are  placed  around  table,  hostess  says  "Unmask." 
Results  are  very  humorous,  as  partner  may  be  sister  or  chum, 
or  an  old  lady  or  old  man  who  under  disguise  were  not 
discovered,  and   may  have  had  a  fine  time. 

After  supper  all  return  to  brilliantly  lighted  drawing-room, 
and  all  ghostly  reminders  are  laid  aside.  Any  kind  of  dances 
may  follow,  Hallowe'en  games,  plays  or  mysteries  tried. 


62  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


Lucky   Charms. 


Some  of  these  charms,  with  their  special  virtues,  are  as 
follows : 

i .  Split  chestnut — Good  morning. 

2.  Amethyst  heart — -Loyalty. 

3.  Owl — Wisdom. 

4.  Heather  in  glass — Eternal  love. 

5.  Four -leaf  clover — Luck. 

6.  Scarab — Fidelity. 

7.  Antique  money — Luck  at  games. 

8.  Pine  cone — Preserves  from  sickness. 

9.  Seaweed  in  glass  —Preserves  from  accident. 

10.  Poppy — To  forget  grief. 

11.  Holly — Overcomes  all  obstacles. 

1 2 .  Auvergne  bell — Guide  in  the  right  path. 

13.  Hazelnut — Long  life. 

These  are  attached  by  a  little  chain  to  a  central  ring. 
The  flowers  are  incased  in  glass  locket,  and  the  others  are 
of  silver  or  of  gold  in  the  forms  given. 

Another  set  of  charms  consists  of  tablets  of  various  shapes, 
heavily  chased  in  ornamentation  and  set  with  gems,  the 
sentiment  of  which  is  also  engraved  on  tablets  just  above 
setting.     These  are: 

1.  Opal — Hope.  8.  Ruby — Charity. 

2.  Garnet — Grace.  9.  Jasper — -Wisdom. 

3.  Sapphire — Truth.  10.  Pearl — Innocence. 

4.  Bloodstone — Courage.  11.  Turquoise — -Prosperity. 

5.  Chrysoprase — Eloquence.    12.  Amethyst — Deep  love. 

6.  Topaz — Fidelity.  13.  A  wire  charm  containing  in 

7.  Jacinth — Modesty.  a  frame  the  figure  "  1 3 . " 

The  person  wearing  this  set  of  charms  is  supposed  to  have 
all  these  wonderful  qualities  of  character.  The  same  gems 
and  others  as  beautiful  are  also  to  be  had  in  the  rough  uncut 
stones,  inclosed  in  gold  wire  cages  and  hung  imprisoned  on 
little  gold  chains  of  varied  lengths. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES,  63 


Your  Lucky   Birthday   Jewel. 

If  you  wish  good  luck  to  follow  you  throughout  life,  wear 
the  stone  belonging  to  the  month  in  which  you  were  born. 

JANUARY. 

By  her  who  in  this  month  is  born 
No  gems  save  Garnets  should  be  worn ; 
They  will  insure  her  constancy, 
True  friendship  and  fidelity. 

FEBRUARY. 

The  February  born  will  find 
Sincerity  and  peace  of  mind, 
Freedom  from  passion  and  from  care, 
If  they  the  Amethyst  will  wear. 

MARCH. 

Who  on  this  world  of  ours  their  eyes 
In  March  first  open  shall  be  wise, 
In  days  of  peril  firm  and  brave, 
And  wear  a  Bloodstone  to  their  grave. 

APRIL. 

She  who  from  April  dates  her  years 
Diamonds  should  wear ;   lest  bitter  tears 
For  vain  repentance  flow ;   this  stone 
Emblem  of  innocence  is  known. 

MAY. 

Who  first  beholds  the  light  of  day 
In  Spring's  sweet,  flowery  month  of  May 
And  wears  an  Emerald  all  her  life, 
Shall  be  a  loved  and  happy  wife. 


64  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

JUNE. 
Who  comes  with  summer  to  this  earth 
And  owes  to  June  her  day  of  birth, 
With  ring  of  Agate  on  her  hand 
Can  health,  wealth,  and  long  life  commando 

JULY. 
The  glowing  Ruby  should  adorn, 
Those  who  in  warm  July  are  born; 
Then  will  they  be  exempt  and  free 
From  love's  doubts  and  anxiety. 

AUGUST. 
Wear  a  Sardonyx,  or  for  thee 
No  conjugal  felicity; 
The  August -born  without  this  stone,. 
'Tis  said  must  live  unloved  and  lone. 

SEPTEMBER. 
A  maiden  born  when  Autumn  leaves 
Are  rustling  in  September's  breeze 
A  Sapphire  on  her  brow  should  bind — - 
'Twill  cure  diseases  of  the  mind. 

OCTOBER. 
October's  child  is  born  for  woe, 
And  life's  vicissitudes  must  know; 
But  lay  an  Opal  on  her  breast 
And  hope  will  lull  those  woes  to  rest. 

NOVEMBER. 
Who  first  comes  to  this  world  below 
With  drear  November's  fog  and  snow 
Should  prize  the  Topaz  amber  hue — 
Emblem  of  friends  and  lovers  true. 

DECEMBER. 
If  cold  December  gave  you  birth — 
The  month  of  snow  and  ice  and  mirth — ■ 
Place  on  your  hand  a  Turquoise  blue: 
Success  will  bless  whate'er  you  do. 


HALLO  WE TEN  FESTIVITIES.  65 


Hallowe'en   Entertainment. 

Send  out  invitations  at  least  two  weeks  beforehand. 
Form  of  Invitation. 


Young  Men  and  Young  Women, 
Attend  ye  Petrer  Stout's  Hallowe'en  Entertainment 

at 

144  Southward  Street. 

Come  ye 

Prepared  to  take  part  in  the  sports  of  an  Old-time 

Hallowe'en. 

COME 

ONE 

COME 

ALL 

Into  "THE    REALMS    OF     SHADE" 

At  the  early  hour  of  eight  on  the  night 

Of  the  Thirty-first  of  October, 

19—. 


DECORATIONS. 

Decorate  back  of  stage  with  medallion  of  Jacob  Sleeper 
and  surround  him  with  halo  of  brooms.  Suspend  from 
ceiling  above  ctage-center,  a  witch  riding  a  broom.  Deco- 
rate sides  of  stage,  rooms,  and  halls  with  jack-o'-lantern 
heads  draped  in  black,  with  blazing  eyes  and  grinning  faces. 
Between  jack-o'-lanterns  hang  chains  of  bright  red  apples. 
Below  chains  hang  cardboards  containing  appropriate  mottoes. 


66  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

Examples: 

"  Keep  me  as  the  apple  of  thine  eye." 

"  A  cure  for  every  disorder. " 

"I  am  the  'Apple  of  Discord.'" 

"The  means  of  Atalanta's  undoing." 

"The  cause  of  Eve's  banishment  from  Paradise." 
Sometimes  ears  of  corn,  tomatoes,  and  popcorn  are  used 
for  decorations.     Over  entrance  to  room  where  guests  are 
seated  during  performance,  place  a  large  motto, 

"All  hope  abandon, 
Ye  who  enter  here." 

Station  two  Sable  Sisters  at  main  entrance  to  house  to 
receive  flowers  (two  of  a  kind  to  be  given  by  each  unmarried 
woman  in  attendance)  and  the  regular  fee  for  admission, 
if  the  affair  is  for  charity,  church,  or  school  benefit.  (The 
Sable  Sisters  are  gowned  in  black  from  head  to  foot  and 
have  their  hair  streaming  about  shoulders  and  faces.) 

As  guests  enter  house  they  give  required  fee  to  Sable 
Sisters.  If  married  they  pass  to  room  where  they  are  to 
enjoy  performance.  Unmarried  guests  are  escorted  by 
Ghosts  to  rooms  where  Ghosts  in  attendance  request  them 
to  remove  wraps  and  to  don  garments  of  "The  Realms  of 
Shade"  (white  sheets).  They  enter  hall  and  are  met  by 
Mephistopheles  (a  man  gowned  in  brilliant  red  from  head  to 
toe),  who  escorts  them  to  room  where  guests  are  seated. 

As  guests  enter  room  they  are  greeted  with  groans,  moans, 
howls,  and  hisses. 


HALLO  WE' EN  FES TI VITIES. 


67 


PROGRAM. 

As  each  guest  enters  room  where  performance  is  to  take 
place  he  receives  a  copy  of  the  evening's  program  from  hands 
of  a  ghost. 

Form  of  Program. 


Robin  Goodfellow:   A  Recitation. 

Macbeth's   Fortune:   A  Play. 
Ghostly  Pantomime: 

(a)  Seein'  Things. 

(b)  Tenting  To-night. 

(c)  Au  Revoir. 
Refreshments. 


At  eight  o'clock  orchestra  begins  first  piece,  "A  Hot  Time 
in  the  Old  Town  To-night." 

Orchestra:  Combs,  tin  horns,  brass  horns,  dinner-bells, 
tin  pans,  harmonicas,  piano,  drums. 

Orchestral  Music  (to  be  played  between  the  part 
performances):  "Sweet  Marie;"  "The  Bowery;"  "You  Can't 
Play  in  my  Back  Yard;"  "There's  a  New  Coon  in  Town;" 
"We've  All  Been  There  Before;"   "Good  Night,  Ladies." 

Performance:  With  finish  of  "There's  a  Hot  Time 
in  the  Old  Town  To-night,"  Robin  Goodfellow  appears  and 
recites  "Robin  Goodfellow."  After  his  recitation  curtain 
rises. 

ROBIN  GOODFELLOW— ALIAS  PUCK— ALIAS 
HOBGOBLIN. 

(a  kind  of  merry  sprite.) 
By  Ben  Jonson. 
From  Oberon,  in  fairye  land, 

The  King  of  Ghosts  and  shadowes  there, 
Mad  Robin  I,  at  his  command, 

Am  sent  to  viewe  the  night  sports  here. 


68  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  31. 

What  revell  rout 
Is  kept  about, 
In  every  corner  where  I  go, 
I  will  o'er  see, 
And  merry  bee, 
And  make  good  sport,  with  ho,  ho,  ho! 

More  swift  than  lightning  can  I  flye 

About  this  aery  welkin  soone, 
And,  in  a  minute's  space,  descrye 

Each  thing  that's  done  belowe  the  moone. 
There's  not  a  hag 
Or  ghost  shall  wag, 
Or  cry,  "  'Ware  Goblins!   where  I  go;" 
But  Robin  I 
Their  feates  will  spy, 
And  send  them  home,  with  ho,  ho,  ho! 

Where'er  such  wanderers  I  meete, 

As  from  their  night-sports  they  trudge  home: 
With  counterfeiting  voice  I  greete 
And  call  them  on,  with  me  to  roame 
Thro'  woods,  thro'  lakes, 
Thro' bogs,  thro' brakes; 
Or  else,  unseene,  with  them  I  go, 
All  in  the  nicke 
To  play  some  tricke 
And  frolicke  it,  with  ho,  ho,  ho! 

Sometimes  I  meete  them  like  a  man; 

Sometimes,  an  ox;  sometimes,  a  hound; 
And  to  a  horse  I  turn  me  can ; 

To  trip  and  trot  about  them  round. 
But  if,  to  ride, 
My  backe  they  stride, 
More  swift  than  wind  away  I  go, 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  69 

Ore  hedge  and  lands, 
Thro'  pools  and  ponds 
I  whirry,  laughing,  ho,  ho,  ho! 

When  lads  and  lasses  merry  be, 

With  possets  and  with  juncates  fine; 
Unseene  of  all  the  company, 

I  eat  their  cakes  and  sip  their  wine; 
And  to  make  sport, 
I  dart  and  snort ; 
And  out  the  candles  I  do  blow: 
The  maids  I  kiss ; 
They  shrieke — :c  Who's  this?  " 
I  answer  nought  but,  ho,  ho,  ho! 

By  wells  and  rills,  in  meadowes  greene, 

We  nightly  dance  our  hey-day  guise ;      , 
And  to  our  fairye  king,  and  queene, 
We  chaunt  our  moonlight  minstrelsies; 
When  larks  'gin  sing, 
Away  we  fling ; 
And  babes  new  borne  steal  as  we  go, 
And  elfe  in  bed 
We  leave  instead, 
And  wend  us  laughing,  ho,  ho,  ho! 

From  hag-bred  Merlin's  time  have  I 
Thus  nightly  revelled  to  and  fro ; 
And  for  my  pranks  men  call  me  by 
The  name  of  Robin  Goodfellow. 

Fiends,  ghosts,  and  sprites, 
Who  haunt  the  nightes, 
The  hags  and  goblins  do  me  know; 
And  beldames  old 
My  feates  have  told; 
So  Vale,  Vale;   ho,  ho,  ho! 
[Exit  Robin  Goodfellow.] 


70  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


"  MACBETH'S  FORTUNE." 

Performers:  Three  Witches,  Hecate,  Armed  Head, 
Bloody  Child,  Crowned  Child,  Eight  Kings,  Ghostly 
Speaker,  Macbeth,  Banquo's  Ghost,  Clowns,  Authors, 
Tramps,  etc.  ^  &  OaJaJ& 

PROLOGUE. 
Ghostly  Speaker.  Jjfa/l/U** 

[Standing  on  stage — outside  the  curtain — left  side.]£*^ 
And  now  I  will  unclasp  a  secret  book, 
And  to  your  quick-conceiving  discontents 
I'll  read  you  matter  deep  and  dangerous, 
As  full  of  peril  and  adventurous  spirit         XJ\ 
As  to  o'er-walk  a  current  roaring  loud 
On  the  unsteadfast  footing  of  a  spear. 

[Curtains  open  on  Scene  I.,  a  cavern.  In  middle  a  boiling 
caldron.  Loud  thunder.  Enter  three  Witches  in  ghostly  attire , 
leaning  on  crutches,  and  with  long  snake -like  tresses  hanging 
about  their  faces.  They  move  forward  toward  caldron.  Loud 
and  long  thunder.  Witches  look  around  and  at  one  another  and 
shudder.  Then  mewing  of  cat.  Again  roar  of  thunder  followed 
by  mewing  of  cat.  Witches  shudder  and  shake  their  heads.  A 
still  louder  crash  of  thunder  followed  by  quick  and  sharp  flash 
of  lightning  and  deep  and  awful  cat-mewing.  Looking  at  sky 
and  in  distance,  Witches  shake  heads.] 

First  Witch.     Thrice  the  brinded  cat  hath  mewed. 

[She  approaches  and  looks  into  caldron  solemnly  shaking 
her  head.  Sound  of  whining  of  pig.  Witches  glance  hastily 
at  one  another  and  in  direction  of  sound.  Again  whining  of 
pig.  Second  Witch  approaches  caldron  and  shudders.  Other 
two  look  at  each  other  and  shake  heads.  Again  whining  of  pig. 
Witch e-s  all  approach  caldron  and  each  in  turn  stirs  contents 
with  stick,  and  shaking  her  head  steps  back  and  looks  in  direc- 
tion of  sound.  Whining  sound  is  heard  again,  and  they  stand 
dumb.] 


HALLOWEEN  FESTIVITIES. 

Second  Witch.     Thrice  and  once  the  hedge-pig  whin'd. 
Third  Witch.     Harpier  cries,  'Tis  time,  'tis  time. 
First  Witch. 

[Marching  around  caldron  and  throwing  in  things,  shaking 
her  head  wisely  and  solemnly;  bending  over  stick  she  thumps 
it  on  floor,  saying:-] 

'Round  about  the  caldron  go; 
In  the  poison'd  entrails  throw. 
Toad,  that  under  cold  stone 
Days  and  nights  has  thirty-one 
Swelter'd  venom  sleeping  got, 
Boil  thou  first  i'  the  charmed  pot. 
All. 

[After  First  Witch  has  gone  around  often  enough  to  complete 
her  rhyme,  others  follow  and,  thumping  sticks  on  floor  and  bend- 
ing their  bodies  back  and  forward  as  they  go,  say:] 

Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble; 
Fire  burn,  and  caldron,  bubble. 
Second  Witch. 

[Marches  around  alone,  others  stepping  out  and  one  side. 
Second  Witch  does  exactly  what  First  Witch  did  when  she 
went  alone.     She  continues  to  go  round  while  she  says:] 

Fillet  of  a  fenny  snake ; 
In  the  caldron  boil  and  bake ; 
Eye  of  newt  and  toe  of  frog, 
Wool  of  bat  and  tongue  of  dog, 
Adder's  fork  and  blind-worm's  sting, 
Lizard's  leg  and  owlet's  wing, 
For  a  charm  of  powerful  trouble, 
Like  a  hell-broth  boil  and  bubble. 
All. 

[When  Second  Witch  finishes,  others  fall  in  behind  her  and 
march  around  shaking  heads,  bending  back  and  forward,  and 
thumping  sticks,  saying:] 


72  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble; 

Fire  burn,  and  caldron,  bubble. 
Third  Witch. 

[Continues  on  around  and  repeats  her  rhyme  while  others 
jail  out  and  stand  one  side,  nodding  and  thumping  sticks.] 
Scale  of  dragon,  tooth  of  wolf, 

Witches'  mummy,  maw  and  gulf 

Of  the  ravin'd  salt-sea  shark, 

Root  of  hemlock  digg'd  i'  the  dark 

Liver  of  blaspheming  Jew, 

Gall  of  goat,   and  slips  of  yew 

Silver'd  in  the  moon's  eclipse, 

Nose  of  Turk,  and  Tartar's  lips, 

Make  the  gruel  thick  and  slab ; 

Add  thereto  a  tiger's  chaudron, 

For  the  ingredients  of  our  caldron. 
All-.- 

[At  close  of  Third  Witch's  speech  others  fall  in  and  march 
around  caldron,  thumping  sticks  as  they  go,  all  saying:] 

Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble; 

Fire  burn,  and  caldron,  bubble. 
Second  Witch. 
[Continues  on  until  she  says  her  lines.     Others  step  one  side.] 

Cool  it  with  a  baboon's  blood, 

Then  the  charm  is  firm  and  good. 
[Enter  Hecate  to  the  other  three  Witches.] 
Hecate.      O,  well  done!    I  commend  your  pains; 

And  every  one  shall  share  i'  the  gains. 

And  now  about  the  caldron  sing, 

Live  elves  and  fairies  in  a  ring, 

Enchanting  all  that  you  put  in. 
[Soft   dreamy   music,  then    weird    music.     Witches    dance 
around  caldron,  keeping  time  to  music  and  humming  in  pecu- 
liar manner  as   they  make  evolutions.     Hecate   retires   while 
they  are  dancing.] 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  73 

Second  Witch. 

[Halting  and  stepping  one  side  and  looking  at  thumbs:] 
By  the  pricking  of  my  thumbs, 
Something  wicked  this  way  comes. 
Open,  locks, 
Whoever  knocks ! 
[Enter  Macbeth  in  ghostly  garments.     He   strides  forward. 
When  near  Witches  he  stops,  frowns  a  second.] 

Macbeth.     How,  now,  you  secret,  black,  a^d  midnight 
hags ! 
What  is't  you  do? 

All.    A  deed  without  a  name. 
Macb.     I  conjure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess, 
Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it,  answer  me; 
Though  you  untie  the  winds  and  let  them  fight 
Against  the  churches;  though  the  yesty  waves 
Confound  and  swallow  navigation  up ; 
Though  bladcd  corn  be  lodged  and  trees  blown  down; 
Though  castles  topple  on  their  warders'  heads; 
Though  palaces  and  pyramids  do  slop"* 
Their  heads  to  their  foundations ;    though  the  1  Measure 
Of  nature's  germens  tumble  all  together, 
Even  till  destruction  sicken;   answer  me 
To  what  I  ask  you. 

First  Witch.     Speak. 
Second  Witch.     Demand. 
Third  Witch.     We'll  answer. 

First  Witch.     Say,  if  thou'dst  rather  hear  't  from  our 
mouths, 
Or  from  our  masters'  ? 

Macb.     Call  'em;    let  me  see  'em. 
First  Witch.     Pour  in  sow's  blood  that  hath  eaten 
Her  nine  farrow;    grease  that's  sweaten 
From  the  murderer's  gibbet  throw 
Into  the  flame. 

[.45  Witch  speaks  oilier  two  pass  around  T-ldron  throwing  in 
something.] 


74  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

All  [march  around  saying].    Come  high  or  low; 
Thyself  and  office  deftly  show ! 

[Loud  thunder  and  heavy  crashes.     In  middle  of  caldron,  ap' 
pears  Armed  Head.     Macbeth  looks  startled.] 
Macb.     Tell  me,  thou  unknown  power, — 
First  Witch.     He  knows  thy  thought : 
Hear  his  speech,  but  say  thou  nought. 
Armed  Head  [in  sepulchral  tones]. 
Macbeth!   Macbeth!  Macbeth!  beware  Macduff, 
Beware  the  thane  of  Fife.     Dismiss  me.     Enough. 
[Descends.] 

Macb.     Whate'er  thou  art,  for  thy  good  caution,  thanks; 
Thou  hast  harp'd  my  fear  aright ;   but  one  word  more, — 
First    Witch.      He  will  not    be    commanded;    here's 
another ; 
More  potent  than  the  first. 

[In  middle  of  caldron  appears  Bloody  Child.] 
Bloody  Child     [yells].     Macbeth!     Macbeth!     Macbeth! 
Macb.     Had  I  three  ears,  I'd  hear  thee. 
Bloody  Child.     Be  bloody,  bold  and  resolute;  laugh  to 
scorn 
The  power  of  man,  for  none  of  woman  born 
Shall  harm  Macbeth.     [Descends.] 

Macb.     Then  live,  Macduff;  what  need  I  fear  of  thee? 
But  yet  I'll  make  assurance  doubly  sure, 
And  take  a  bond  of  fate ;   thou  shalt  not  live ; 
That  I  may  tell  pale-hearted  fear  it  lies, 
And  sleep  in  spite  of  thunder. 

[Loud  thunder,  heavy  flash  of  lightning;    more  thunder;    in 
middle  of  caldron  appears  Crowned  Child,  with  tree  in  hand.] 
Macb.  What  is  this 

That  rises  like  the  issue  of  a  king, 
And  wears  upon  his  baby-brow  the  round 
And  top  of  sovereignty  ? 
All.  Listen,  but  speak  not  to't. 

Crowned  Child.     Be  lion-mettled,  proud;   and  take  no 
care 


HALLOWEEN  FESTIVITIES.  75 

Who  chafes,  who  frets,  or  where  conspirers  are: 
Macbeth  shall  never  vanquish'd  be  until 
Great  Birnam  wood  to  high  Dunsinane  hill 
Shall  come  against  him.     [Descends.] 

Macb.  That  will  never  be : 

Who  can  impress  the  forest,  bid  the  tree 
Unfix  his  earth-bound  root  ?     Sweet  bodements !   Good ! 
Rebellion's  head,  rise  never  till  the  wood 
Of  Birnam  rise,  and  our  high-placed  Macbeth 
Shall  live  the  lease  of  nature,  pay  his  breath 
To  time  and  mortal  custom.     Yet  my  heart 
Throbs  to  know  one  thing:   Tell  me,  if  your  art 
Can  tell  so  much :    Shall  Banquo's  issue  ever 
Reign  in  this  kingdom  ? 

All.  Seek  to  know  no  more. 

Macb.     I  will  be  satisfied;    deny  me  this, 
And  an  eternal  curse  fall  on  you !    Let  me  know. 

First  Witch.     Show! 

Second  Witch.     Show! 
"     Third  Witch.     Show! 

All.     Show  his  eyes,  and  grieve  his  heart; 

Come  like  shadows,  so  depart! 
[Enter  Eight  Kings,  the  last  holding  glass;   Banquo's  Ghost 
following.     As  first  appears,  Macbeth  speaks  (i)  then  (2)  with 
the  second,  and  so  on,  until  all  have  disappeared.     Kings  are 
dressed  in  ghostly  garments  and  crowns.] 

Macb.      (i)  Thou  art  too  like  the  spirit  of  Banquo:  down! 
Thy  crown  does  sear  mine  eyeballs.   (2)  And  thy  hair, 
Thou  other  gold-bound  brow,  is  like  the  first, 
(3)    A  third  is  like  the  former.     Filthy  hags 

[looks  angrily  at  Witches], 
Why  do  you  show  me  this?     (4)   A  fourth!   Start,  eyes! 

(5)  What,  will  the  line  stretch  out  to  the  crack  of  doom? 

(6)  Another  yet!    (7)    A  seventh!    I'll  see  no  more: 
(8)    And  yet  the  eighth  appears,  who  bears  a  glass 
Which  shows  me  many  more ;    and  some  I  see 
That  twofold  balls  and  treble  sceptres  carry ; 


76  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

Horrible  sight !'   Now,  I  see  'tis  true ; 

For  the  blood  bolter'd  Banquo  smiles  upon  me, 

And  points  at  them  for  his.     [Eight  Kings  vanish.] 

What,  is  this  so? 
First  Witch.     Ay,  sir,  all  this  is  so;    but  why 
Stands  Macbeth  thus  amazedly? 
Come,  sisters,  cheer  we  up  his  sprites, 
And  show  the  best  of  our  delights : 
I'll  charm  the  air  to  give  a  sound, 
While  you  perform  your  antic  round ; 
That  this  great  king  may  kindly  say, 
Our  duties  did  his  welcome  pay. 
[Music.     Witches  dance  and  vanish.] 
M^cb.     Where    are   they?       Gone?       Let    this   pernicious 

hour 
Stand  aye  accursed  in  the  calendar! 
Come  in,  without  there. 
[Enter  Clowns,  Authors,  Tramps,  etc.] 

GHOSTLY  PANTOMIME. 

"SEEIN'  THINGS." 

This  part  of  the  program,  represented  by  the  Clowns, 
Authors,  and  Tramps  in  as  humorous  and  ghostly  a  fashion 
as  possible,  is  left  to  the  ingenuity  of  manager  of  entertain- 
ment. 

"TENTING  TO-NIGriT." 

Represented  by  tent  with  beds.  Soldiers  sit  around  sing- 
ing. Suddenly  all  becomes  hushed  and  still.  Music  of 
"Stars  and  Stripes"  is  played  softly,  and  ghosts  approach 
and  hoist  before  astonished  eyes  of  soldiers  American  flag 
that  they  had  forgotten  to  hoist.  When  flag  reaches  top 
of  pole,  all  sing  "Stars  and  Stripes." 

"SAY  'AU  REVOIR.'" 
Represented  by  entrance  of  Shakespeare,  Byron,  Tenny- 
son,   Bryant,  Twain,    Kipling,   and   Swift,  who   glide   about 
stage  in  mysterious  manner.     "Au  Revoir"  is  played,  and 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVITLES.  TJ 

these  authors  glide  to  front  of  stage  and  stand.  Witches 
and  Macbeth  appear  and  stand  between  them.  All  sing 
"  Au  Re  voir." 

[Curtain.^ 

EPILOGUE. 

As  curtain  goes  down  Ghostly  Speaker  appears  and  says: 
Our  revels  now  are  ended.     These  our  actors 

Were  all  spirits,  and 
Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air; 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision, 

All  shall  dissolve, 
And,  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded, 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind. 
At   close   of  program,   unmarried  people   are   escorted  by 
Mephistopheles  to  two  different  rooms.     Over  door  of  room 
for  men  is  large  sign,  "Enter  Men,  but  Have  a  Care."     Over 
door  of  room  for  women  is  sign.     "May  Fortune  Treat  You 
Fairly."     Men  and  women  enter  these  rooms  and  select  flower 
preferred,   and  meet  in  hall.     Woman   and  man  that  have 
same  kind  of  flower  are  partners  for  evening  in  all  games, 
feasts,  etc. 

REFRESHMENTS. 

Serve  refreshments  immediately  after  play  or  perform- 
ance. Following  refreshments  are  suggested:  "Fortune 
Cake,"  "Conundrum  Nuts,"  "Hallowe'en  Pie,"  "Apples," 
"Chestnuts,"  "Fortune  Balls,"  Lemonade.  For  married 
people  substitute  pop-corn  balls  for  "  Fortune  Balls." 

When  married  and  unmarried  people  are  present,  refresh- 
ments may  be  served  at  different  tables.  In  center  of  table 
for  married  people  have  large  cake,  without  ring.  In  center 
of  table  for  unmarried  people  have  "Fortune  Cake."  Rest 
of  refreshments  for  married  people  may  be  same  as  for  un- 
married. 

ORDER  OF  SERVING  REFRESHMENTS. 

Cut  "Fortune  Cake"  at  table  after  all  are  seated,  the  cake 
at  other  table  at  same  time.     See  that  each  person  gets  a 


?8  WERNERS  READINGS  No.  SI. 

piece.  All  are  to  search  for  the  ring.  The  one  'hat  gets  it 
will  be  married  within  a  year. 

After  ring  is  found,  pass  the  "Conundrum  Nuts."  Each 
person  receives  one.  The  one  at  head  of  each  table  reads  his 
conundrum  and  each  one  at  table  tries  to  answer.  If  answer 
is  not  given,  hostess  gives  it.  Each  person  in  turn  reads  his 
conundrum  and  answer  is  given. 

When  all  have  read  conundrums  and  answers  have  been 
given,  "Apples"  are  passed,  each  guest  taking  one.  Hostess 
tells  them  to  eat  the  apples. 

After  caps  are  found  and  put  on,  "Chestnuts"  are  passed. 
Each  guest  takes  one  and  person  at  foot  of  each  table,  when 
mottoes  are  discovered,  reads  his.  Each  one  in  turn  does 
the  same  until  all  are  finished. 

"  Hallowe'en  Pie  "  comes  next  and  is  brought  in  cut.  Each 
person  gets  a  piece. 

Next  come  "Fortune  Balls."  Each  person  receives  one, 
except  married  ones.  Married  ones  may  have  pop-corn  balls 
at  same  time.  Hostess  requests  them  to  enjoy  pop-corn. 
When  a  guest  finds  the  paper  he  rises  and  reads  it.  Each 
does  so  in  turn.  Lemonade  is  served  as  guests  are  about  to 
pass  to  kitchen. 

REFRESHMENT  RECIPES. 

FORTUNE  CAKE. 

One  lb.  butter,  2  lbs.  sugar,  3  lbs.  flour,  1  lb.  currants,  1  lb. 
raisins,  6  eggs,  3  teaspoonfuls  powdered  saleratus,  1  teaspoon- 
ful  ground  cinnamon,  \  nutmeg,  1  gold  ring.  Beat  butter  to 
a  cream;  add  sugar  after  rolling  it  fine,  add  well-sifted  wheat 
flour,  well-beaten  eggs.  Dissolve  saleratus  in  little  hot  water, 
add  it.  Also  add  cinnamon  and  grated  nutmeg.  Wash  and 
dry  currants  thoroughly  and  stone  and  cut  raisins  in  two; 
.flour  them  all  together  with  the  ring  and  work  them  all  in 
the  dough.  Put  into  large  buttered  tin  and  bake  in  moderate 
oven. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVLTIES.  fg 

Samples  of  Fortune  Slips. 
i .    You  will  receive  a  letter  in  a  few  days  from  your  dear- 
est friend.     Your  life  will  be  smooth  and  full  of  glad  content. 

2 .  You  are  going  to  marry  and  live  abroad.  Your  life 
will  have  many  clouds  but  will  end  gloriously. 

3 .  Your  life  will  be  spent  in  doing  good  to  others. 

4.  You  are  about  to  enter  upon  the  broad  ocean  of  life. 
Choose  the  straight  and  narrow  way  and  you  will  be  exceed- 
ingly successful. 

5 .  You  will  be  a  wanderer.  A  rolling  stone  gathers  no 
moss. 

6 .  Sorrow  approaches  you  through  one  you  deem  your 
friend.     Tell  no  more  secrets.     Be  a  friend  to  yourself. 

7 .  You  are  not  doing  yourself  justice.  Cease  hiding  your 
light  under  a  bushel.     Show  the  world  what  you  are. 

8.  A  glorious  future  is  thine.  Gold  to  burn — Take  up 
thy  cross. 

9.  Be  of  good  cheer — Thy  flour  barrel  shall  never  be 
empty. 

10.  Thou  shalt  win  all  thou  desirest.  Be  noble,  true,  and 
good. 

[If  preferred,  humorous  fortunes  may  be  written  on  slips. 
They  are  likely  to  cause  more  fun.] 

CONUNDRUM  NUTS. 
Take  English  walnuts  and  cut  them  apart  with  a  knife — 
do  not  break  shells;  take  out  kernels  and  make  inside  of 
shells  smooth.  Write  suitable  conundrums  on  strips  of 
paper  about  two  inches  wide  and  four  inches  long.  Roll  up 
slips  and  put  between  two  shells.  Place  opening  of  shells 
together  and  tie  daintily  with  baby  ribbon.  Place  them 
into  deep  glass  dish  or  in  several  dishes,  to  be  served  at  table 
same  as  if  good  nuts. 

Samples  of  Conundrums. 
Why  is  the  letter  D  like  a  wedding-ring?     Because  we  can- 
not be  wed  without  it. 

Why  is  a  bridegroom  often  more  expensive  than  a  bride? 


80  WERNER'S   READINGS   No.  81. 

Because  the  bride  is  given  away,  but  the  bridegroom  is  often 
sold. 

Why  does  a  single  lady  wear  mittens  ?     To  keep  off  the  chaps. 

When  is  a  ship  said  to  love  ?     When  tender  to  a  man-o'-war. 

What  did  the  girl  call  the  man  who  took  her  home  under 
his  umbrella  when  she  was  caught  in  the  rain?  Her  rain- 
beau  (bow). 

Why  is  a  young  man  like  a  kernel  of  corn?  Because  he 
turns  white  when  he  pops. 

What  should  a  young  man  carry  with  him  when  calling 
on  his  fiancee?  Affection  in  his  head,  perfection  in  his  man- 
ners, and  confection  in  his  pockets. 

Why  might  it  be  expected  that  some  men  would  abuse 
their  wives?     Because  they  are  lady-killers  before  marriage. 

What  nation  produces  the  most  marriages?     Fascination. 

Why. do  birds  in  their  nest  agree?  Because  if  they  did  not 
they  would  fall  out. 

Who  was  the  first  man  condemned  to  labor  for  life  ?     Adam. 

When  was  fruit  known  to  use  bad  language?  When  the 
first  apple  cursed  the  first  pair  (pear) . 

What  does  a  stone  become  in  the  water?     Wet. 

What  ship  carries  the  most  passengers?     Court-ship. 

Why  is  Canada  like  courtship  ?     It  borders  on  U.  S. 

HALLOWE'EN  PIE. 
Consists  of  upper  and  lower  crust  of  dough  and  looks  like 
any  large  deep  pie.  Dish  is  deep  and  round.  Bake  under 
crust  and  upper  crust.  When  cool,  fill  with  sawdust  and 
dainty  knick-knacks.  Have  knick-knacks  evenly  scattered 
throughout  sawdust.  Then  put  on  top  pie  crust  and  sprinkle 
with  powdered  sugar.  Knick-knacks  should  consist  of  things 
pertaining  to  occasion,  as  witches  on  brooms,  tiny  jack-o'- 
lanterns,  ghosts,  apples,  etc., — souvenirs  of  the  occasion. 

APPLES. 
Cut  out  inside  of  apples  and  fill  in  with  sawdust,  and  into 
center  of  sawdust  put  witch's  caps  made  from  pretty  colored 
paper.     Put  plug  of  apple  in  top  to  hide  opening. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES. 


CHESTNUTS, 


Take  out  kernel  of  chestnut  and  put  in  a  motto  about 
Hallowe'en,  or  ghosts,  or  good  luck.  Tie  daintily  with 
colored  cord. 

FORTUNE  BALLS. 

On  slip  of  paper  four  inches  long  by  six  inches  wide  write 
fortune  of  each  person.  Select  things  that  happen  in  every 
life.  Have  each  paper  different.  Roll  them  up  and  when 
corn  is  popped  and  dipped  in  syrup  or  molasses  that  has  been 
properly  boiled,  put  paper  into  middle  of  each  ball  and  roll 
corn  all  around  bundle  of  paper.  These  balls  may  be  of 
different  colors. 

SYRUP  FOR  POP  CORN  BALLS. 

Take  two  cups  of  granulated  sugar  to  one  cup  of  boiling 
water,  and  boil  until  syrup,  when  dropped  into  water,  makes  a 
soft  ball.  Stir  in  popped  corn.  Molasses  boiled  until  stringy 
may  be  used  in  same  way.  A  little  cochineal  will  make  syrup 
red,  a  little  chocolate  will  make  it  chocolate  color. 

WAITRESSES. 
Refreshments  should  be  served  by  young  girls  gowned  as 
Witches. 

WITCH  COSTUME.- 
Tall  steeple  cap  with  narrow  rim  and  snake  coiled  around 
steeple ;  black  bodice  with  white  front  (bodice  laced  together 
at  front);  short,  full  white  skirt;  long  black  pointed  over- 
skirt  (about  six  points  reaching  bottom  of  skirt) ;  short, 
white  panier  overskirt  at  each  hip;  black  pointed,  slippers 
with  big  buckles  and  black  stockings. 

GAMES. 

After  refreshments,  hostess  invites  guests  to  take  part  in 
games  in  kitchen.       [See  Games,  page  49.] 


82  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  31. 


Fortune-Telling   With  Dominoes. 

The  room  in  which  the  future  is  to  be  tested  should  be 
of  inky  darkness,  with  half-dozen  or  more  white  lights 
set  in  form  of  double-three  dominoes;  and  a  gown  of  black- 
and-white  "polka-dot"  should  be  worn  by  the  "revealer  of 
destinies." 

The  dominoes  should  rest  face  down  on  a  smooth  table  of 
white  marble  or  oil-cloth.  The  inquirer  seats  himself  at  table, 
shuffles  dominoes,  and  from  them  draws  five  dominoes.  From 
these  the  seer  must  concoct  a  "revelation"  of  sufficient  detail 
and  length.     As  an  aid  the  following  are  given: 

Double-six  denotes  receipt  of  money,  will  be  very  rich. 

Six-five  denotes  amusement  and  success. 

Six-four  denotes  early  marriage  and  much  happiness. 

Six-three  denotes  constancy  and  affection. 

Six-two  denotes  orderly,  economical,  and  industrious. 

Six-one  denotes  will  marry  twice,  rich  in  old  age. 

Six-blank  denotes  will  learn  of  death  of  a  dear  friend. 

Double-five  denotes  will  be  very  lucky  in  everything. 

Five-four  denotes  will  marry  poor. 

Five-three  denotes  ample  means  and  eventual  wealth. 

Five-two  denotes  unfortunate  love  affair. 

Five-one  denotes  an  invitation  to  an  enjoyable  affair. 

Five-blank  denotes  avoid  gambling  and  games  of  chance. 

Double-four  denotes  lucky  to  lovers,  farmers,  and  laborers. 

Four-three  denotes  neither  riches  nor  poverty. 

Four-two  denotes  a  change  in  your  circumstances. 

Four-one  denotes  you  will  be  childless  but  rich. 

Four-blank  denotes  quarrels  and  separations,  never  marry. 

Double-three  denotes  immense  riches. 

Three-two  denotes  fortunate  in  love,  marriage,  and  business. 

Three-one  denotes  not  favorable. 

Three-blank  denotes  your  sweetheart  is  deceitful. 

Double-two  denotes  thrifty  and  successful,  moderately  rich. 

Two-one  denotes  a  life  of  luxury,  but  never  marry. 

Two-blank  denotes  poverty  and  bad  luck. 

Double-ace  denotes  constancy  in  love  and  marriage. 

Ace-blank  denotes  travel  in  great  luxury. 

Double-blank  denotes  selfish,  miserly,  and  heartless. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  83 


Ghost-Story   Party. 


There  is  no  more  grewsome  and  unique  kind  of  party  than 
a  Ghost-Story  Party.  To  make  such  a  party  successful  limit 
your  guests  to  twelve — six  men  and  six  women — and  request 
each  one  to  come  prepared  to  do  his  part  in  story-telling.  The 
one  that  gives  the  most  awful  story  wins  a  prize.  Each 
story-teller  should  aim  to  make  his  listeners  believe  the  thing 
occurred  to  him.  The  following  stories  are  suggestive  of  the 
kind  of  stories  one  may  tell. 


THAT  GHOST. 

By  Anna  E.  Dickinson. 

One  evening  not  many  years  ago  I  visited  a  friend  who 
resided  in  a  so-called  haunted  house.  Just  before  retiring 
my  hostess  called  my  attention  to  the  fact  that  I  was  to 
occupy  the  room  in  which  the  most  awful  sounds  of  the  night 
were  heard.  As  I  was  neither  superstitious  nor  timid,  I  told 
her  I  was  willing  to  give  the  ghosts  a  trial,  and  shortly  I  re- 
tired to  my  room. 

The  room  was  a  delightful  old-fashioned  apartment,  the 
open  fire,  and  huge  chintz-covered  easy  chair  inviting — I 
said  I  wouldn't — yet  even  while  I  said  so,  sat  down  to  read. 

I  read  and  the  hours  wore  on. 

The  book  was  not  cheerful,  far  from  it,  but  it  was  fasci- 
nating— Bulwer's  "Strange  Story" — and  as  the  night  waned 
there  was  something  more  than  the  sinking  fire  to  account 
for  the  chill  that  insidiously  crept  over  me. 

I  could  hear  the  striking  of  the  bell  at  the  town  hall.  Two 
o'clock.  It  did  sound  preternaturally  clear  and  loud.  I 
paused  in  my  reading  to  listen.  Could  the  unhappy  souls  that 
so  many  years  ago  were  untimely  sped  into  eternity  yet 
wander  about  these  old  haunts  of  earth  to  disturb  the  descend- 
ants of  their  merciless  executioners  ?  I  pondered  the  thought 
and,  still  pondering,  put  down  the  book  with  its  weird  char- 


84  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

acters  and  uncanny  apparitions,  and  found  my  way,  shiver- 
ingly  and  in  haste,  to  bed. 

Had  I  really  been  asleep?  I  do  not  know.  I  know  a 
longer  or  shorter  interregnum  of  dark  and  silence  had  fol- 
lowed the  extinguishing  of  my  light,  and  that  I  had  lost 
consciousness  when  something  wakened  me. 

Up  I  sprang  with  the  familiar  exclamation,  "Who's  there?" 

No  reply,  but  a  swishing  sound,  soft  and  continuous, 
smote  my  ear  in  such  wise  as  to  make  it  tingle  with  any- 
thing but  pleasing  sensations. 

"Who's  there?"  again  demanded  I,  this  time  defiantly. 

Again  no  answer,  but  stillness  fell  for  a  space. 

Softly  I  got  out  of  bed,  and,  as  well  as  I  could,  steered 
for  the  gas-burner  and  the  match-safe  with  intent  to  cast 
some  light  upon  the  matter,  but  alas,  was  foiled  on  reach- 
ing them  by  the  discovery  of  one  headless  stick  and  two 
burned  ones. 

The  silence  continued. 

"Sheer  imagination,"  said  I  to  myself  jeeringly,  and  re- 
traced my  steps  through  the  room. 

Swish,  swish,  went  the  noise,  and  I  sat  up  again — swish, 
swish,  swish. 

Rats?  No;  it  was  not  like  rats.  No  gnawing,  no  scam- 
per, no  patter. 

Wind?  Perhaps  so.  There  is  no  accounting  for  some 
of  its  demonstrations.  I  shook  up  the  pillow  and  com- 
posed myself  to  sleep  once  more. 

It  was  no  use — swash  went  something. 

I  scrambled  out  this  time  in  dire  earnest.  A  light  I  must 
have.  A  light  I  would  have.  There  were  no  matches.  I 
stumbled  my  way  to  the  hall  door,  and  cautiously  opened  it. 
No  light.  No  stir.  I  shut  the  door  and  turned  back  into  the 
room. 

Seemingly  the  fire  had  died,  but  I  found  my  way  to  the 
grate  and  poked  at  it  gingerly,  till  through  the  ashes  I  saw 
the  glimmering  hint  of  an  ember,  and  blew  at  it  till  my 
throat  was  dry,  in  a  vain  effort  to  light  a  scrap  of  paper, 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  85 

dragged  from  the  recesses  of  my  coat  pocket,  but  the  letter- 
paper  was  harsh  and  unamenable  to  fire  or  reason,  and  did 
but  smoke  and  smoke  till,  through  heating  and  charring,  it 
was  gone  without  consenting  to  the  dawn  of  a  blaze. 

The  noise  had  stopped  meanwhile,  but  began  again.  A 
soft  breathing  and  a  movement  like  trailing  garments.  I 
had  no  more  paper  to  help  me.  I  must  prosecute  my  in- 
vestigations in  the  dark. 

For  the  second  time  I  stumbled  to  the  door.  No  one 
there.  To  the  windows.  There  were  four  of  these,  lofty, 
with  blinds  within  and  without.  No,  no  tree  branch  grew 
sufficiently  near  to  strike  against  them.  No  loose  hinge 
nor  ill-hung  sash  permitted  them  to  waver,  no  rain  fell  from 
the  darkened  sky  to  beat  against  them,  but  the  darkened 
sky  and  dreary  night  allowed  no  friendly  glimmer  to  pene- 
trate the  gloomy  recesses  of  my  room,  up  and  down  which 
I  navigated,  hands  and  feet  both  in  requisition,  with  many 
a  halt  and  more  than  one  threatened  shipwreck  in  a  hope- 
less voyage  of  discovery. 

Nothing  but  darkness,  stillness,  and  bruises  rewarded 
me.  "I  am  a  fool,"  then  said  I,  with  chattering  teeth; 
"My  death  I  shall  catch,  but  a  ghost? — no.  Let  us  have 
done!" 

Swash  went  the  something  once  more. 

"Ah  ha!"  whispered  I,  with  malicious  triumph,  as  I 
shuffled  across  the  room;  "you  are  there,  are  you?  in  the 
water  pitcher?  trying  to  drown  yourself?  Now  I  have 
you!"  and  I  plunged  my  hand  into  the  pitcher,  into  the 
basin,  back  into  the  pitcher  to  its  bottom.  Nothing  there 
but  water,  cold  and  plenteous — nothing  found  save  a  wet 
arm  and  an  additional  discomfort — a  wet  sleeve. 

I  retreated  to  the  shelter  of  pillows  and  blankets,  and  re- 
solved to  give  repose  to  my  heavy  head  and  burning  eye- 
balls, though  a  whole  legion  of  ghosts  saw  fit  to  revel  in 
what  had  once  been  the  abode  of  some  one  of  their  number. 

Determination  has  its  rewards.  Strained  eyeballs  and 
tense   head  gradually   relaxed,   frozen   body   thawed,   sleep, 


86  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

with  its  downy  mantle,  was  covering  all  fret  and  fatigue 
with  its  blessed  oblivion,  when —  Well,  I  sat  up  once 
more,  descended,  ran  nimbly,  for  I  had  learned  every  step 
of  the  way  to  the  grate,  and  that  forlorn  hope  of  an  ember. 
Did  it  still  live?     Barely,  and  fast  growing  cold. 

There  were  no  more  scraps  of  paper,  no  more  letters. 
Even  the  match-sticks  had  been  tried  in  desperation  and 
tried  in  vain;  but  there  was  my  pocket-book,  and  some 
scrip,  or,  this  failing,  a  bill  of  inferior  denomination.  So 
the  blowing,  and  the  ashes,  and  the  slow  dull  smoking, 
slower  and  duller  than  before,  were  repeated,  and  that  was 
all — save  that  I  was  the  poorer  by  some  scrip  and  a  green- 
back or  so. 

"Miserable  ghost!"  cried  I,  the  necessity  of  speech  sub- 
dued by  the  reason  of  the  living  beings  sleeping  in  near  rooms, 
making  speech  doubly  intense  not  to  say  savage — to  the 
being,  living  or  dead,  but  wide-awake  and  aggressive  in  my 
own  room — "miserable  ghost,  speak  or  be  silent,  prance  or 
be  still.  I  will  sacrifice  to  you  no  more  time,  no  more  rest, 
no  more  comfort,  no  more  letters,  no  more  greenbacks.  I 
defy  you — only,  for  my  own  enlightenment  will  you,  in  re- 
turn for  the  annoyance  you  have  caused  me,  in  ghostly  lan- 
guage tell  me  whether  you  go  through  this  performance 
every  night,  and  whether  you  purpose  continuing  it  till 
morning?  Three  raps  for  affirmative.  One  for  denial. 
Come!   Begin!" 

It  began,  but  not  as  I  desired.  It  was  not  a  ghost  to  be 
defied,  nor  a  spirit  to  indulge  in  trifling  conversation,  and 
it  punished  my  effrontery  by  going  on  with  its  dreary  pro- 
gram as  though  it  entirely  ignored  me  and  my  queries. 
No  light-minded  rapping  responded,  but  in  its  stead,  a 
curious  gurgling  sound  that  to  my  intent  ear  seemed  like 
the  breath  of  a  person  dying  by  slow  suffocation. 

Yes,  it  is  true;  my  hair  certainly  did  uncurl,  and  each 
particular  thread  did  stand  on  end  with  horror.  Small, 
cold  claws  paced  down  my  back,  and  marked  off  each  spinal 
vertebra  with  painful  and  peculiar  distinctness.     My  chest 


HALLOWE'EN-  FESTIVITLES.  87 

was  a  drum,  and  my  heart  a  drum-stick  that  beat  a  double 
tattoo  with  as  much  ease  as  though  it  had  been  two. 

I  ceased  alike  entreaties  and  defiance.  There  were  no 
more  observations  to  be  made.  I  would  not  speak  to  the 
inhabitants  of  my  own  world,  though  the  vertebra  parted, 
and  each  hair  turned  white  where  it  stood.  I  got  into  my 
bed  with  a  desperate  determination  to  remain  there,  and  I 
remained  till  morning. 

Morning  came.  There  was  nothing  at  the  windows, 
nothing  at  the  door,  on  the  furniture,  behind  the  furniture, 
under  the  bed — nothing  in  the  pitcher,  the  basin — nothing 
anywhere. 

I  struck  against  the  porcelain  foot-bath,  unstumbled 
against  and  unremembered  the  night  before,  and  screamed 
— in  a  voice  that  brought  the  household  to  my  threshold — 
over  a  half -grown,  half-drowned  rat,  that  was  swish,  swish- 
ing with  its  wretched  little  cla.:s  up  the  concave  side  of  the 
slippery  ware  and  sliding  back  into  its  unwished-for  bath 
of  ten  inches  of  cold  and  mustardy  water. 

I  screamed,  but  it  was  morning.  My  reputation  for  cour- 
age was  lost,  but  no  one  of  that  household  has  known  of 
cause  to  accuse  me  of  superstition  unto  this  day. 


88  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  St, 


THAT  AWFUL  GHOST. 


The  ghost  about  which  I  shall  speak  is  probably  the  most 
blood-curdling  and  terror-inspiring  ghost  ever  seen;  at  least 
that  was  what  my  two  boy  friends  and  I  thought  as  we  came 
scampering  through  a  field,  falling  over  stones  and  stumps, 
plunging  headlong  into  thickets  and  yelling  at  the  top  of  our 
voices. 

The  way  it  all  came  about  was  this:  It  was  early  in  June. 
We  had  started  out  in  the  afternoon  to  go  trouting  in  the 
pretty  little  mountain  stream  that  comes  dashing  down  from 
the  side  of  the  Ossipee  range  and  empties  into  Winnipisseo 
Lake  at  Melvin  village. 

So  exciting  had  the  sport  been  that  we  kept  on,  following 
the  stream  far  up  the  mountain,  and  it  was  not  until  near 
sunset  that  it  occurred  to  any  of  us  that  it  was  time  to  start 
for  home. 

"I  say,  Jerry,"  shouted  Bill  my  friend,  "the  sun  isn't 
more  than  an  hour  high,  and  there's  a  fog  rising  down  there 
on  the  lake.  If  you  two  don't  want  to  stay  out  in  the  woods 
all  night,  you'd  better  be  making  tracks." 

"All  right,"  answered  Jerry,  "I'm  ready  when  you  are; 
but  isn't  it  rough  to  have  to  give  it  up  now?  How  hungry  I- 
am.  Seems  to  me  I  could  eat  one  of  those  trout  raw;  and 
it  will  be  two  hours  and  a  half  or  three  hours  before  we  can 
get  home,  too." 

"Oh!  you  needn't  eat  raw  fish.  'Twon't  take  but  a  few 
minutes  to  cook  some." 

Dry  wood  was  gathered  and  a  bright  fire  started.  Mean- 
while Jack  had  cleaned  half  a  dozen  good-sized  trout,  and 
spread  them  open,  placing  them  on  a  sort  of  gridiron  made 
of  green  branches.  Then  raking  over  the  fire  he  put  them 
on  the  glowing  coals.  Pretty  soon  the  fish  began  to  sizzle 
and  when  they  were  browned  on  one  side  they  were  turned 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  89 

over  and  cooked  on  the  other.  While  the  cooking  had  been 
going  on,  Bill  had  peeled  pieces  of  birch-bark,  and  when  the 
fish  were  done  he  had  some  clean,  fresh-looking,  sweet-smell- 
ing plates  all  ready  to  receive  them. 

"Now,  help  yourselves,  boys,"  said  Jerry,  as  he  trans- 
ferred the  contents  of  the  rude  gridiron  to  the  dishes  and 
seized  upon  a  tempting  morsel  himself;  but  dropped  it  as 
quickly  as  though  it  were  a  red-hot  iron. 

"Jerusha,  isn't  it  hot  though?"  he  exclaimed,  alternately 
blowing  and  sucking  his  fingers;  "guess  we'll  have  to  wait 
for  them  to  cool  a  little." 

In  time,  however,  even  red-hot  trout  will  cool,  and  we 
boys  enjoyed  a  hearty  supper.  There  was  a  lack  of  salt 
and  seasoning,  but  voracious  appetites  made  up  for  that. 

"Now,  chaps,"  said  Bill,  as  he  finished  his  last  fish,  "it's 
time  for  us  to  be  traveling,  and  we've  got  to  do  some  fast 
walking  if  we  want  to  get  home  by  bedtime;  it  isn't  a  very 
easy  road  following  the  brook  down;  but  I'm  afraid  we'll 
lose  the  way  if  we  don't  keep  near  it,  especially  if  that  fog 
comes  up  here,  for  then  it  will  be  as  dark  as  a  stack  of  black 
cats." 

We  discarded  our  fish-poles,  rolled  up  our  fish-lines  and 
put  them  into  our  pockets,  then,  taking  our  heavy  string  of 
fish,  started  down  the  mountain.  It  was  a  rough  path,  and 
as  it  grew  darker  and  darker  we  had  much  trouble  in  clamber- 
ing over  the  obstacles  in  our  way.  As  we  feared,  the  fog 
crept  up  the  mountain,  and  ere  we  were  half  way  home  it 
was  so  dark  that  we  could  scarcely  see  fifteen  feet  ahead. 
But  the  brook  served  as  a  guide  to  our  course,  and  we  fol- 
lowed it  till  we  came  to  a  clearing  about  two-thirds  of  the 
way  down. 

"I  guess  this  is  Deacon  Jones's  field,"  says  Jack,  as  he 
comes  to  the  fence,  "and  I  think  we'd  better  go  'cross-lots 
the  rest  of  the  way.". 

"I'm  a  little  suspicious  we'll  get  lost  in  this  thick  fog; 
but  at  any  rate  it's  better  than  tumbling  and  straddling 
around  among  the  rocks  and  bushes  over  there  by  the  brook." 


90  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31 

We  accordingly  struck  off  through  the  field.  Getting 
out  of  the  woods  we  found  it  a  little  lighter,  but  it  was  still 
disagreeably  dark.  Through  the  pasture  we  went,  and 
finally  came  to  a  plowed  field,  in  which  the  young  crop  was 
just  starting  up.  Here  the  walking  was  much  better.  Bill, 
who  was  the  oldest,  trudged  along  ahead,  and  we  followed 
after  in  Indian  file. 

Suddenly  Bill  stopped,  and  in  frightened  accents  cried 
out:   "B-boys;   1-look  th-there.     Wh-what's  th-that?" 

Gazing  in  the  direction  in  which  Bill  was  pointing,  we 
beheld  a  sight  which  nearly  took  our  breath  away  with 
fright.  Right  before  us — certainly  not  fifteen  feet  off — was 
a  most  awful  spectre — a  ghost — there  could't  be  any  doubt 
about  the  matter;  there  it  stood,  a  tall  figure  clothed  in  white, 
with  great  white  arms  stretched  out  as  though  about  to  catch 
all  three.  On  its  head  was  a  bright  sort  of  helmet,  and 
underneath  the  helmet  a  face — not  of  the  dead,  but  of  glow- 
ing fire.  It  seemed  to  us  that  the  fiery  eyes  were  fixed  on 
us  with  a  malignant  stare.     We  were  spellbound  with  fear. 

All  the  stories  of  ghosts  and  goblins  that  we  ever  heard 
rose  up  in  our  minds.  We  were  too  frightened  to  speak  or 
even  to  run  away.  What  good  in  flight?  Cannot  the  demon, 
or  ghost,  or  whatever  it  is,  overtake  us?  It  began  to  move! 
The  long  white  arms  waved  in  the  air  as  though  about  to 
grasp  us!  The  head  nodded  as  though  the  goblin  was  chuck- 
ling to  himself  before  seizing  his  prey.  He  was  about  to 
start  for  us,  when,  with  loud  cries,  we  dropped  our  fish  and 
started  off  on  a  wild  run  through  the  field,  each,  in  fancy 
at  least,  feeling  the  awful  presence  of  the  phantom  close 
behind  him. 

Scuttling  along  in  our  wild  retreat  we  reached  the  fence 
which  formed  the  other  boundary  of  the  field,  and  over  it 
we  tumbled  in  hot  haste.  As  we  struck  the  ground  on  the 
other  side  we  were  saluted  by  a  gruff  voice : 

"Hullo,  thar!   What's  the  rumpus?  " 

And  looking  in  the  direction  whence  the  sound  came,  we 
beheM  another  apparition,  but  this  time  a  welcome  one.     It 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  9 1 

was  old  Deacon  Jones  with  a  lantern.  He  was  out  hunting 
up  a  stray  cow,  and  was  considerably  surprised  and  not  a 
little  startled  at  the  sudden  appearance  of  three  boys  tum- 
bling over  the  fence,  pell-mell,  in  such  a  terrible  state  of  ex- 
citement. 

As  soon  as  we  recovered  a  little  we  proceeded  to  explain 
the  matter  by  stating  that  we  had  been  chased  by  a  most 
awful  ghost  ever  heard  of  in  those  parts.  "It  was  at  least 
fifteen  feet  tall,  wore  a  long  white  shroud,  had  a  head  of 
burning  fire,  and  chased  us  clear  across  the  field." 

"Pooh!"  grunted  the  old  deacon,  "you're  as  crazy  as 
loons.  Thar  ain't  no  sich  things  as  ghosts.  Come  'long 
an'  find  out  what  it  is.  I'll  agree  ter  eat  all  the  ghosts  on 
Ossipee  Mountain." 

We  boys  were  still  badly  frightened,  but  reassured  by  the 
presence  of  the  valorous  deacon  we  consented  to  return, 
provided  he  would  go  ahead. 

We  retraced  our  steps,  and  soon  Bill,  pulling  the  deacon's 
sleeve,  whispered  in  tremulous  tones :  ' '  There  it  is !" 

"Yes,  that's  jest  what  I  thought;  why,  ye  simpletons, 
ye've  been  scart  out  o'  yer  senses  an'  come  nigh  breakin' 
yer  necks  runnin'  away  from  a  scarecrow  that  I  fixed  up 
myself  ter  keep  the  thievin'  crows  from  pulling  up  my  corn," 
and  the  deacon  set  down  his  lantern  and  laughed  so  loud 
that  the  mountain  echoes  caught  the  infection  and  laughed 
again. 

"But  his  head  is  just  like  a  ball  of  fire,  and  his  arms  kept 
waving  about,  just  as  though  they  wanted  to  hit  us,"  said 
Jerry,  still  unable  to  comprehend  the  affair. 

"Wal,  come  'long  an'  find  out  all  about  it,"  answered  the 
deacon,  as  he  proceeded  toward  the  cause  of  so  much  excite- 
ment. 

"Thar,  ye  see  it's  nothin'  but  an  old  white  birch  stub, 
about  seven  feet  high.  I  put  an  old  white  smock  frock  onto 
it,  an'  I  fixed  some  beech  withes  inter  the  arms  a-puppus 
to  have  the  wind  blow  'em  about  an'  scare  the  pesky  crows. 
That  wonderful  hat's  only  an'  old  tin  pail,  an'  the  burnin' 


92 


WERNER'S   READINGS   No.  SI. 


fiery  face  that  most  scart  yer  inter  fits — wal,  that's  the  wurst 
uv  all;  why,  it's  nuthin'  but  fox-fire,  that  ye  can  see  in  most 
any  old  rotten  stump  hereabouts.  Now,  jest  pick  up  yer 
fish  an'  help  me  find  my  cow  or  I'll  tell  everybody  down  ter 
the  village  how  three  smart  young  chaps  got  scart  out  uv  a 
year's  growth  by  an  old  birch  stump." 

We  boys  hunted  up  the  fish  we  had  left  in  our  fright  and 
meekly  followed  the  deacon.  He  promised  not  to  tell  the 
story,  but  it  was  too  good  to  keep,  and  for  many  months 
after  three  young  men  were  haunted  by  the  story  of  "that 
awful  ghost." 


HALLpWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  93 


MY  GHOST  STORY. 


In  the  year  1704  a  gentleman  of  large  fortune  took  fur- 
nished lodgings  in  a  house  in  Soho  Square.  After  he  had 
resided  there  some  weeks,  he  lost  his  brother,  who  had  lived 
at  Hampstead,  and  who  on  his  death-bed  particularly  de- 
sired to  be  interred  in  the  family  vault  at  Westminster  Abbey. 
The  gentleman  requested  his  landlord  to  permit  him  to  bring 
the  corpse  of  his  brother  to  his  lodgings,  and'to  make  arrange- 
ments there  for  the  funeral.  The  landlord  without  hesita- 
tion signified  his  compliance. 

The  body,  dressed  in  a  white  shroud,  was  brought  in  a 
very  handsome  coffin  and  placed  in  a  great  dining-room. 
The  funeral  was  to  take  place  the  next  day,  and  the  lodger 
and  his  servants  went  out  to  make  preparations  for  the 
solemnity.  He  stayed  out  late;  but  this  was  no  uncommon 
thing.  The  landlord  and  his  family,  conceiving  that  they 
had  no  occasion  to  wait  for  him,  retired  to  bed  about  twelve 
o'clock.  One  maid-servant  was  left  up  to  let  him  in,  and 
to  boii  some  water,  which  he  had  desired  might  be  readv 
for  making  tea  on  his  return.  The  girl  was  accordingly 
sitting  all  alone  in  the  kitchen,  when  a  tall  spectre-looking 
figure  entered  and  clapped  itself  down  in  a  chair  opposite  to 
her. 

The  maid  was  by  no  means  one  of  the  most  timid  of  her 
sex ;  but  she  was  terrified  beyond  expression,  lonely  as  she 
was,  at  this  unexpected  apparition.  Uttering  a  loud  scream, 
she  flew  out  like  an  arrow  at  a  side  door,  and  hurried  to  the 
chamber  of  her  master  and  mistress.  Scarcely  had  she 
wakened  them  and  communicated  to  the  whole  family 
some  part  of  the  fright  with  which  she  was  herself  over- 
whelmed, when  the  spectre,  enveloped  in  a  shroud,  and  with 
a.  face  of  death-like  paleness,  made  its  appearance  and  sat 


94  WERNER'S  READINGS  JVo.  31. 

down  in  a  chair  in  the  bedroom  without  their  having  observed 
how  it  entered.  The  worst  of  all  was  that  this  chair  stood 
by  the  door  of  the  bedchamber,  so  that  not  a  creature  could 
get  away  without  passing  close  to  the  apparition,  which 
rolled  its  glaring  eyes  so  frightfully,  and  so  hideously  dis- 
torted its  features,  that  they  could  not  bear  to  look  at  it. 
The  master  and  mistress  crept  under  the  bed-clothes,  covered 
with  profuse  perspiration,  while  the  maid-servant  sank 
nearly  insensible  by  the  side  of  the  bed. 

At  the  same  time  the  whole  house  seemed  to  be  in  an  uproar ; 
for  though  they  had  covered  themselves  over  head  and  ears 
they  could  still  hear  the  incessant  noise  and  clatter,  which 
served  to  increase  their  terror. 

At  length  all  became  perfectly  still  in  the  house.  The 
landlord  ventured  to  raise  his  head,  and  to  steal  a  glance  at 
the  chair  by  the  door ;  but  behold  the  ghost  was  gone !  Sober 
reason  began  to  resume  its  power.  The  girl  was  brought 
to  herself  after  a  good  deal  of  shaking.  In  a  short  time  they 
plucked  up  sufficient  courage  to  quit  the  bedroom  and  to 
commence  an  examination  of  the  house,  which  they  expected 
to  find  in  great  disorder.  Nor  were  their  anticipations  un- 
founded; the  whole  house  had  been  stripped  by  artful  thieves, 
and  the  gentleman  had  decamped  without  paying  for  his 
lodging.  It  turned  out  that  he  was  no  other  than  an  accom- 
plice of  the  notorious  Arthur  Chambers,  who  was  executed 
at  Tyburn,  1706;  and  that  the  supposed  corpse  was  this 
arch-rogue  himself,  who  had  whitened  his  hands  and  face 
with  chalk,  and  merely  counterfeited  death.  About  mid- 
night he  quitted  the  coffin,  and  appeared  to  the  maid  in  the 
kitchen.  When  she  flew  upstairs  he  softly  followed  her, 
and  seated  at  the  door  of  the  chamber,  he  acted  as  a  sentinel, 
so  that  his  industrious  accomplices  were  enabled  to  plunder 
the  house  without  the  least  molestation. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVITLES.  95 


FAMOUS  GHOSTS. 


By  Carolyn  Wells. 

[Copyright  by  the  Century  Co.     Used  by  permission  of  Publishers.] 

When  I  first  spoke  to  Gertrude  about  going  down  to  our 
seashore  cottage  to  spend  Hallowe'en,  she  treated  the  idea 
with  scorn.  This  pleased  me,  for  I  knew  that  she  would 
soon  be  enthusiastically  approving  my  suggestion,  if,  indeed, 
she  were  not  offering  it  as  her  own. 

I  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  to  hear  her,  a  few  days 
later,  telling  a  neighbor  that,  just  for  the  novelty  of  the 
thing,  we  were  going  to  spend  Hallowe'en  at  Beachhurst. 

"We  haven't  quite  decided,"  she  continued,  "but  I  think 
it  would  be  great  fun,  and  little  Frederick  would  enjoy  it 
so  much.  If  my  husband  will  only  consent,  I  think  we 
shall  surely  go." 

I  graciously  allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded  to  consent 
to  my  own  plan,  and  then  Gertrude  invited  a  house-party 
of  a  few  friends  to  spend  a  few  days  with  us. 

The  "Woodpile,"  our  seaside  home,  was  newly  built, 
and  as  it  was  one  of  the  finest  cottages  on  the  New  Jersey 
coast,  we  were  justly  proud  of  it,  and  enjoyed  the  pros- 
pect of  entertaining  our  friends  with  a  novel  and  pleasing 
hospitality. 

We  arrived  at  the  "Woodpile"  two  days  before  Hallowe'en, 
as  there  was  much  to  be  done. 

However,  as  the  servants  were  capable,  though  not  very 
willing,  and  the  guests  were  willing,  though  not  very  capable, 
we  soon  had  the  machinery  in  motion  for  a  jolly  old-fashioned 
Hallowe'en.  The  first  evening  we  made  jack-o'-lanterns 
and  witches,  and  decorated  the  house  with  a  determined 
enthusiasm  that  accomplished  wonders. 

Indeed,  I  never  remember  working  so  hard  in  all  my  life. 
I  cut  and  tied  and  hammered  and  nailed,  and  ran  up  and 
down  step-ladders,  until  I  was  so  tired  that  when  at  last  I 
found  myself  in  bed  I  fell  asleep  at  once. 


9^  WERNER'S   READINGS   No.  31. 

From  this  deep  sleep  I  awoke  suddenly  and  with  a  jump. 

The  room  was  dark,  save  for  a  tiny  spark  of  night-light. 
I  looked  and  listened,  but  could  see  or  hear  nothing 
alarming;  yet  I  felt  an  irresistible  impulse  to  rise  and  go 
down-stairs. 

I  was  not  frightened;  I  had  no  thought  of  fire  or  burglars. 
I  simply  rose  and  put  on  my  bath-robe  and  slippers  because 
I  could  not  help  it. 

For  the  same  reason,  I  went  out  into  the  hall,  down  the 
stairs,  and  into  the  parlor.  This  was  a  large  apartment, 
which  was  already  decorated  in  Hallowe'en  fashion. 

As  I  entered,  I  was  surprised  to  notice  the  chill  air  of  the 
room.  I  crossed  the  room,  though  I  grew  colder  with  every 
step,  and  sat  down  in  an  arm-chair  near  the  fire-place. 

There  was  no  fire  on  the  hearth,  but  I  did  not  select  my 
seat  with  a  view  to  warming  myself,  but  because  I  was  unable 
to  resist  the  power  that  pushed  me  into  that  particular  chair. 

As  I  sat  there,  I  was  cold,  extremely  cold,  but  not  shiver- 
ing; the  calm  iciness  of  the  atmosphere  seemed  to  imbue 
my  whole  being,  and  I  sat,  silent  and  immovable,  with  a 
half -conscious  sense  of  admiring  my  own  magnificent  inanition. 

Then  the  thought  came  into  my  mind  that  I  was  about  to 
see  a  ghost.     Even  this  did  not  startle  me. 

So  when  the  misty,  frosty  air  gradually  settled  into  a  dis- 
tinct though  semi-transparent  shape,  I  knew  at  once  that 
I  was  in  the  presence  of  a  ghost.  And  then,  as  I  looked 
with  interest  upon  his  ghostship,  there  seemed  something 
familiar  about  him.  I  was  sure  I  had  never  seen  a  ghost 
before,  yet  that  tall,  commanding  figure  walking"  toward  me 
with  a  stately  and  solemn  step  seemed  somehow  like  an  old 
acquaintance". 

I  gazed  at  the  ghost  more  curiously.  He  wore  a  com- 
plete suit  of  armor,  of  an  antique  make  that  appealed  strongly 
to  my  collecting  instincts,  and  my  fingers  fairly  itched  for 
his  wonderful  helmet.  His  face  was  that  of  an  oldish  man, 
yet  his  flowing,  dark  beard  was  only  partially  silvered,  and 
his  expression,  though  a  trifle  sad,  seemed  to  betoken  a  strong 
noble  nature.     Undoubtedly  he  was  a  ghost,  and  a  ghost  of 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  97 

no  small  importance,  and  after  waiting  a  suitable  time  for 
him  to  speak,  I  concluded  to  open  a  conversation  myself. 

But  while  I  was  considering  in  what  terms  to  address  a 
strange  ghost,  and  what  degree  of  welcome  to  offer  him,  the 
apparition  stalked  a  few  steps  nearer  to  me,  and  announced 
in  a  deep,  hollow  voice: 

"I  am  thy  father's  spirit, 
Doomed  for  a  certain  time  to  walk  the  night." 
And  then  I  recognized  my  visitor.     Of  course  he  was  not 
my  father's  spirit  at  all,  but  the  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father. 

"Hamlet,"  I  cried,  "king,  father,  royal  Dane,  my!  but 
I'm  glad  to  see  you!  " 

I  had  not  intended  to  speak  in  this  colloquial  way,  but  I 
had  always  felt  a  warm  sympathy  for  the  old  gentleman, 
and  somehow  it  broke  through  my  icy  calm. 

Perhaps  it  broke  through  his  also,  for  he  stopped  stalking 
and  stood  regarding  me  with  a  countenance  more  in  sorrow 
than  in  anger.     Then  he  said: 

"For  this  assurance,  thanks.     I  would  that  I 
Might  say  the  same  to  you.     But  of  a  truth 
Your  presence  here,  at  this  especial  time, 
Hinders  my  dearest  plans." 

"No!  Is  that  so?"  said  I,  much  concerned.  "But  I'm 
only  here  for  a  week,  or  ten  days  at  most;  can't  your  plans 
wait  that  long?  " 

"Not  so;    on  Hallo' eve— to-morrow  night — 
I  do  expect  that  there  will  join  me  here 
A  dozen  of  my  fellows — fellow-ghosts, 
Doomed  for  a  certain  time  to  walk  the  night." 

"Oho!"  said  I,  "I  see;,  you  have  made  my  house  a  ren- 
dezvous for  Hallowe'en,  because  you  thought  it  would  be 
otherwise  vacant." 

"  Tis  so,  my  friend;  and  lend  thy  serious  hearing 
To  what  I  shall  unfold.     In  vain  I've  sought 
In  the  Old  World  a  castle  or  a  church, 
A  ruined  abbey  or  an  ancient  tower, 
Where  I  and  some  few  spirits  of  my  choice 


98  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

Might  congregate,  unnoticed  and  alone. 
At  my  wits'  end,  I  thought,  there's  one  last  chance; 
Mayhap,  across  the  sea,  the  newer  world, 
With  less  of  legend  and  tradition, 
May  offer  us  a  haven,  where,  in  peace 
And  unmolested,  we  may  work  our  will." 
"Yes,  yes,  I  see,"  cried  I;    "you  came  here  thinking  the 
Jersey   coast   the   farthest    possible   remove   from    a   ghost- 
haunted  atmosphere.     But  what  is  your  work?     What  are 
you  contemplating  that  excludes  your  fellow-ghosts?  " 
"  But  soft !   methinks  I  scent  the  morning  air. 
Brief  let  me  be ;   and  yet  I  ever  was 
Rambling  and  slow  of  speech.     I  will  call  up 
A  comrade  spirit;   he  shall  tell  thee  all. 
Ho,  Marley's  Ghost  appear!  " 
"Marley's    Ghost!"     I    exclaimed.     Surprise    and    delight 
had  now  entirely  melted  my  icy  calm,  and  I  rose  to  shake 
hands  cordially  with  Marley's  Ghost  as  with  an  old  friend. 

The  hand-shaking  gave  me  a  peculiar  sensation,  for  though 
I  could  see  his  hand  grasp  my  own  and  jog  up  and  down 
with  it,  yet  I  felt  nothing  but  a  handful  of  ice-cold  air,  like 
an  evaporated  snow-ball. 

All  my  life  I  had  been  familiar  with  Marley's  Ghost,  and 
now  he  stood  before  me :  the  same  face ;  the  very  same  Mar- 
ley  in  his  pigtail,  usual  waistcoat,  tights  and  boots,  with  his 
chain  clasped  about  his  middle;  and  when  he  sat  down  in 
an  arm-chair  and  wrung  his  hands  and  gave  a  frightful  cry, 
I  realized  afresh  that  this  was  truly  Marley's  Ghost  that  I 
had  known  and  loved  for  years. 

"  It  is  extremely  awkward,  my  dear  sir,"  he  said,  "to  object 
to  a  man's  presence  in  his  own  house,  but  I  will  explain  our 
predicament  in  a  few  words,  and  perhaps  you  can  aid  us  in 
some  way." 

"My  services  are  at  your  disposal,"  said  I,  for  just  at  that 
moment  it  seemed  to  me  that  to  assist  Marley's  Ghost  and 
the  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father  was  the  only  aim  of  my  life. 

"We  are  about  to  organize  a  club,"  went  on  the  spirit  of 
Jacob    Marley,    "of   Ghosts   Who    Became    Famous.     Now, 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVLT1ES.  99 

you  will  readily  see  that  such  a  club  should  be  kept  very 
select  and  none  admitted  to  membership  except  those  who 
are  unquestionably  famous." 

"And  myriads  there  be," 
broke  in  the  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father, 

' '  whose  natural  gifts 
Are  poor  to  those  of  mine ;    and  yet  they  come 
With  pomp  and  circumstance  to  join  our  ranks." 

"I  sympathize  with  you,"  I  said,  and  sincerely,  "for  I 
know  how  difficult  it  is  to  keep  undesirable  members  out 
of  a  club  and,  without  question,  you  two  gentlemen  are  as 
the  most  famous  ghosts  of  all  time  qualified  to  judge  an 
applicant's  claims." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Marley's  Ghost;  "but  though  we 
are  the  most  famed,  others  also  have  won  lasting  recognition. 
But  they  are  few.  It  would  surprise  you  to  know  how  few 
ghosts  have  become  really  famous.  Of  course  you  under- 
stand that  when  we  selected  this  house  and  this  room  for 
our  meeting  it  was  on  the  supposition  that  you  would  spend 
Hallowe'en  in  your  city  home,  and  this  house  would  be  un- 
occupied." 

"It  is  indeed  awkward,"  said  I,  "for  though  I  would  gladly 
leave  to-morrow,  and  take  my  family,  yet  I  can't  ask  my 
guests  to  go  away  so  suddenly.  But  stay;  I  have  an  idea. 
You  don't  want  this  room  until  midnight.  Suppose  I  have 
our  Hallowe'en  sport  Hallowe'en  morning.  Then  if  I  can 
make  everybody  go  to  bed  before  midnight  the  coast  will 
be  clear  for  you." 

My  spectral  guests  were  delighted  with  this  plan,  and,  as 
an  expression  of  their  gratitude,  invited  me  to  be  present  at 
the  club  meeting. 

This  was  exactly  what  I  wanted,  and  I  accepted  their  invita- 
tion with  pleasure. 

"You  are  sure  you  can  arrange  matters  so  as  to  have  this 
room  vacated  by  midnight?  "  said  Marley's  Ghost,  anxiously. 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  I,  for  I  resolved  that  I  would  do  so, 
even  if  I  were  obliged  forcibly  to  eject  my  guests. 


IOO  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

"Swear!  "  said  the  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father,  in  his  stagey 
way. 

"I  swear  it,"  I  said  earnestly. 

As  there  were  no  cocks  to  crow  down  at  the  seashore,  I 
wondered  if  my  guests  would  know  when  to  depart;  but 
even  as  I  wondered,  they  disappeared  slowly,  like  a  dis- 
solving view,  and  I  was  left  alone. 

I  returned  to  my  bed,  and  lay  there,  thinking  how  I  should 
persuade  Gertrude  to  consent  to  deferring  the  celebration  as 
1  wished. 

But  it  was  not  difficult.  She  readily  agreed  that  the  fun 
would  be  much  greater  on  Hallowe'en  morning,  for  then 
our  baby  boy  could  enjoy  it,  too — a  pleasure  which  would 
be  denied  him  at  night. 

On  Hallowe'en,  then,  I  hurried  every  one  off  to  bed  well 
before  midnight;  and  when  the  clock  struck  twelve  I  arose, 
earnestly  hoping  that  every  one  else  in  the  house  was  asleep. 

I  softly  descended  the  stairs,  feeling  again  that  impelling 
force,  but  by  no  means  inclined  to  resist  it. 

When  I  entered  the  parlor  it  was  quite  dark,  save  for 
the  semi-luminous  presence  of  several  ghosts. 

I  at  once  recognized  the  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father,  who 
was  stalking  up  and  down.  Marley's  Ghost  was  talking  to 
three  other  spirits. 

The  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father  seemed  too  preoccupied  to 
pay  much  attention  to  me,  but  Marley's  Ghost  was  exceed- 
ingly polite,  and  told  me  who  the  various  phantoms  were. 

"That,"  said  he,  pointing  to  a  tall,  gloomy  specter,  "is 
Banquo's  Ghost;  and  this" — indicating  another,  in  hunts- 
man's garb — "is  Heme  the  Hunter." 

Caesar's  Ghost  I  recognized  for  myself,  and  the  noble  figure, 
in  its  Roman  drapery,  must  have  thrilled  Brutus  when  it 
appeared  to  him  before  the  battle  of  Philippi. 

The  Headless  Horseman  seemed  to  be  one  of  the  most 
important  ghosts,  and  the  Hessian  trooper  looked  especially 
weird  as  he  carried  his  lioad  under  his  arm,  and  often  care- 
lessly left  it  lying  around  on  a  chair  or  table. 

The  Skeleton  in  Armor  rattled  about  with  a  good  deal  of 


HALLOWE'EN   FESTIVITIES.  IOI 

dignity.  He  wasn't  as  ghostly  looking  as  the  others,  but 
he  was  quite  as  ghastly. 

Suddenly  eleven  spirits  entered  at  once. 

"Who  are  they?  "  I  whispered  to  Marley's  Ghost. 

"Those  are  the  various  ghosts,"  he  replied,  "which  ap- 
peared to  King  Richard  III.  when  he  was  in  his  tent  in  Bos- 
worth  Field.     Of  course  you  recognize  the  Tower  Princes." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  looking  at  the  misty  shapes  of  two  beautiful 
children,  who  were  like  and  yet  unlike  the  familiar  picture  of 
them. 

Queen  Anne,  too,  I  knew,  and  King  Henry  VI.,  but  Buck- 
ingham, Clarence,  and  the  others  were  to  me  simply  pictur- 
esque phantoms,  and  I  did  not  know  which  was  which. 

Marley's  Ghost  answered  my  questions  politely,  but  I 
could  see  his  attention  was  otherwise  attracted,  and  he  was 
covertly  listening  to  a  controversy  which  was  going  on  be- 
tween the  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father  and  the  Headless  Horse- 
man. 

"What  is  the  trouble?  "  said  I. 

"The  trouble  is,"  replied  Marley's  Ghost,  "that  there  are 
three  ghosts  who  want  to  belong  to  the  club,  and  Hamlet 
doesn't  want  them.  He  thinks  they  aren't  sufficiently 
famous;  and  as,  when  the  club  is  formed,  Hamlet  will  doubt- 
less be  elected  president,  of  course  Ins  opinion  must  be  con- 
sidered. But  the  Headless  Horseman  thinks  these  doubt- 
ful members  should  come  in." 

"Who  are  they?"  I  asked. 

"There  they  stand,"  said  Marley's  Ghost,  pointing  to  three 
phantom  figures  that  stood  apart  from  the  rest. 

Two  seemed  to  be  companions — a  tall,  erect  man,  with 
close-curling  red  hair  and  queer  red  whiskers,  and  a  woman 
in  black,  pale,  and  with  a  dreadful  face. 

The  other  ghost  stood  alone,  and  seemed  rather  morose 
and  dejected,  though  apparently  the  spirit  of  a  well-to-do 
gentleman. 

"Those  two  together,"  said  Marley's  Ghost,  "are  Peter 
Quint  and  Miss  Jessel." 

"And  who  are  thev?  "  said  I. 


102  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

"Ah,  you  don't  know!  "  said  Marley's  Ghost,  with  an  air 
of  satisfaction.  "That  strengthens  my  opinion  that  they 
are  not  famous ;  and  yet  they  claim  that  they  are  well  known 
in  literary  circles.  They  are  characters  in  Henry  James's 
'The  Two  Magics.'" 

"  Never  read  it,"  said  I;  "but  of  course  they're  not  famous 
at  all,  compared  with  you  and  old  Hamlet." 

"No,"  said  Marley's  Ghost,  and  he  might  be  pardoned 
for  clanking  his  chain  a  little  ostentatiously,  "but  then,  of 
course,  they're  younger.     A  hundred  years  hence,  perhaps — " 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "perhaps.  And  now,  who  is  the  dissatisfied- 
looking  gentleman  near  them?" 

"That,"  said  Marley's  Ghost,  "is  Tomlinson." 

"Ah,"  said  I,  "Kipling's  Tomlinson.     I  know  him." 

"Yes?"     And  do  you  call  him  famous?" 

"It's  so  hard  to  say,"  I  answered.  "To  my  mind,  he  is 
worthy  of  fame,  but  many  readers  do  not  agree  with  me. 
And  he,  too,  is  young." 

"Yes,"  said  Marley's  Ghost,  "but  I  was  famous  when 
very  young.  Why,  the  ghost  of  Nell  Cook  and  the  Drummer 
of  Salisbury  Plain  in  the  'Ingoldsby  Legends,'  or  even  'Gil- 
bert's Phantom  Curate,'  are  better  known  than  they." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  thoughtfully,  "or  the  extremely  up-to-date 
ghosts  of  Frank  R.  Stockton,  John  Kendrick  Bangs,  and 
F.  Marion  Crawford." 

The  discussion  became  more  general,  and  soon  all  the 
ghosts  were  arguing  the  question  of  "What  is  fame?"  Peter 
Quint  loudly  asserted  his  claims  on  the  ground  that  his 
author  was  the  most  famous  of  living  novelists.  "That 
may  be,"  said  Marley's  Ghost,  "but  I  am  personally  ac- 
quainted with  a  living  gentleman  who  says  he  never  read 
'The  Two  Magics.'" 

"Pooh!"  said  the  Ghost  of  Peter  Quint,  "fame  does  not 
necessarily  imply  popularity.  Because  it  was  not  one  of 
the  six  best -selling  books  is  no  reason  why  the  book  I  am  in 
should  not  be  considered  famous.  My  author  would  scorn 
to  be  popular,  but  all  the  world  calls  him  famous.  There- 
fore, I  am  famous." 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  103 

"'Infamous'  would  describe  them  better,"  growled  the 
Headless  Horseman.  He  was  sitting  near  me  at  the  time, 
but  as  his  head  was  lying  on  a  window-seat  across  the  room, 
the  voice  came  from  there,  and  the  effect  was  extremely  weird. 

Tomlinson's  principal  claim  was  also  on  his  author's  repu- 
tation, and  Marley's  Ghost  sagaciously  opined  that  "after  a 
hundred  years  he,  too,  perhaps — " 

Most  of  the  ghosts  were  slow  of  thought  and  deliberate  of 
speech,  and  the  consequence  was  that  they  hadn't  begun  to 
organize  their  club,  but  were  still  mulling  over  the  question 
of  "What  makes  one  famous?  "  when  I  heard  footsteps  in 
the  room  above,  and  knew  that  Gertrude  had  arisen. 

Then  I  heard  other  footsteps  of  a  childish,  pattering  nature, 
and  I  realized  that  my  son  and  heir  was  already  awake  and 
would  soon  descend.  Here  was  a  predicament.  If  Gertrude 
or  Baby  Frederick  should  see  these  ghostly  visitors  they 
would  faint  and  yell  respectively.  But  how  could  I  induce 
the  club  to  adjourn? 

I  explained  my  difficulty  to  the  Ghost  of  Queen  Anne,  who, 
being  a  woman,  might  have  sympathy  for  Gertrude  and  the 
child. 

But  she  only  said,  with  an  air  of  finality: 

"Ghosts  never  depart  until  cockcrow." 

At  this  I  was  in  despair,  for,  as  I  have  said,  there  were  no 
cocks  at  Beachhurst.  The  situation  was  desperate.  Already 
I  could  hear  Gertrude  and  little  Frederick  on  the  stairs. 

I  thought  of  appealing  to  the  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father, 
but  he  was  in  the  midst  of  a  resounding  speech  in  blank  verse, 
and  I  felt  sure  he  would  not  even  notice  me.  Marley's  Ghost 
was  talking  to  the  Skeleton  in  Armor,  and  by  the  clanking 
chains  and  the  rattling  bones  I  knew  they  were  having  a 
fierce  argument,  and  I  could  not  hope  to  gain  their  attention. 
The  footsteps  sounded  farther  down  the  stairs. 

In  despair  I  cast  my  eyes  about,  and  saw  a  mechanical 
rooster.  With  a  sudden  inspiration  I  seized  the  toy  and 
wound  it  up,  and  a  loud  and  very  natural  crow  was  the  result. 

There  was  a  swishing  sound,  a  final  clanking  and  rattling, 
and  in  an  instant  every  ghost  had  disappeared. 


104  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 


MISS  RUSSELL'S  GHOST. 


I  live  with  Catchings  and  Hopkins,  two  other  newspaper 
men.     We  have  the  fifth  flat  in  a  large  six-story  house. 

Until  last  Friday  every  flat  in  the  house  was  occupied. 
We  have  lived  here  for  more  than  a  year,  but  knew  the  name 
of  but  one  other  tenant,  a  Miss  Russell,  an  actress,  who 
occupied  the  fourth  flat.  Although  we  knew  her  name, 
none  of  us  had  ever  seen  her. 

My  work  keeps  me  at  the  office  until  2  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. One  morning  as  I  came  home  I  met  the  janitor  going 
out  for  Miss  Russell's  physician.  She  had  fallen  ill.  Several 
times  after  that,  one  or  other  of  us  met  the  physician  coming 
to  the  house  or  just  going  away,  and  gradually  we  fell  into 
the  habit  of  asking  the  janitor  about  Miss  Russell's  condition. 
At  first  she  seemed  to  respond  readily  to  treatment,  but  there 
came  a  time  when  the  janitor  or  the  physician  could  not  re- 
port any  change,  either  for  better  or  worse. 

"Just  about  the  same,  sir,"  the  janitor  would  say  when  I 
asked  him.     "She  doesn't  seem  to  get  on." 

For  about  four  weeks  now  an  unusual  series  of  events  has 
been  keeping  all  three  of  us  out  of  the  house  for  two  or  three 
hours  more  than  customary  at  night.  Several  times  it  has 
happened  that  although  I  did  not  get  home  until  4  o'clock  in 
the  morning  I  was  the  first  one  in.  I  distinctly  remember 
that  it  was  so  on  Saturday  three  weeks  ago.  I  had  been 
reading  a  book  which  puzzled  and  interested  me  in  no  small 
degree.  After  I  had  eaten  my  supper,  I  sat  in  the  parlor 
smoking  my  pipe,  finishing  a  baffling  chapter. 

I  was  aroused  from  my  absorption  in  the  book  by  sudden 
and  violent  banging  of  the  door  between  kitchen  and  dining- 
room.  For  a  few  seconds  I  sat  still,  thinking  that  one  of  the 
other  boys  had  come  in  and  had  slammed  the  door  by  acci- 
dent. But  I  heard  no  one  move,  nor,  indeed,  was  there 
another  sound  until,  without  warning,  the  slamming  of  the 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  105 

door  was  repeated.  Then  I  arose  quickly,  put  down  my 
book,  and  went  swiftly  into  the  dining-room,  turning  up  the 
gas  in  the  hall  as  I  passed. 

The  dining-room  was  empty.  The  supper  things  stood 
exactly  as  I  had  left  them,  and  the  kitchen  door  was  shut  as 
usual.  I  opened  it  and  passed  through  the  kitchen.  Noth- 
ing seemed  amiss,  and  I  lit  the  gas  for  a  closer  inspection. 
Everything  was  in  its  place,  and  the  door  into  the  storeroom 
was  locked  according  to  custom.  I  unlocked  it  and  looked 
in.  Nothing  had  been  disturbed.  I  turned  the  light  full 
on  in  the  dining-room  and  went  back  to  my  book.  It  was 
closed,  and  lying  on  the  corner  of  the  piano.  I  had  left  it 
open,  on  a  chair. 

It  was  very  curious,  whatever  this  was  that  was  happen- 
ing, and  it  distracted  my  attention  from  the  book  for  several 
minutes,  but  at  last  the  book  held  me  captive  again.  I  do 
not  know  how  long  I  sat  absorbed  in  reading,  but  I  became 
suddenly  conscious  that  the  room  was  cold.  Then  I  felt  a 
soft  draught.  I  put  down  the  book  and  went  to  the  hall. 
It  was  dark.     The  light  was  out. 

I  was  certain  that  I  had  left  it  turned  well  up,  and  I  went 
to  see  what  was  the  matter.  Before  I  reached  it  the  kitchen 
door  was  shut  again  with  a  thundering  bang,  and  I  saw  that 
the  dining-room  also  was  in  darkness.  I  put  a  match  to 
the  gas-jet  in  the  hall  and  went  into  the  dining-room.  One 
of  the  windows  I  had  left  shut  and  fastened  had  been  thrown 
half-way  up  and  the  heavy  iron  shutters  were  wide  open. 
Just  then  Catchings  and  Hopkins  came  in. 

"What's  the  matter,  Seagrave?"  Hopkins  called  out. 
"You've  got  the  house  as  cold  as  a  barn." 

"If  you  will  tell  me  what  is  the  matter,"  I  replied,  "you 
will  solve  a  very  pretty  puzzle." 

Then  I  told  them  what  had  occurred.  They  laughed  a 
raucous  laugh  that  was  not  pretty.  Nor  was  it  expressive 
of  belief. 

"Pipe  dreams,"  said  Catchings,  reassuringly,  to  Hopkins. 
"He's  been  smoking.     Where  did  you  get  it,  Seagrave?" 

I  did  not  answer,  but  refastened  the  shutters  securely  and 


106  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

latched  the  window  shut.  After  that  I  went  to  bed.  I  had 
had  enough  to  set  me  thinking  and  was  in  no  mood  for  sport 
or  badinage.  I  left  them  sitting  at  the  table  and  joking 
about  what  I  had  said. 

For  three  nights  nothing  happened.  Then,  on  Wednesday, 
Catchings  got  home  first.  It  was  about  half-past  3  o'clock 
when  he  finished  his  supper  and  went  into  the  parlor  to 
smoke.  I  came  at  4  and  found  him  standing,  white-faced 
and  excited,  in  the  hall,  with  every  room  in  the  house  dark. 

"  I  can't  keep  'em  lighted,"  he  whispered,  pointing  to  a  gas. 
jet.     "Something  turns  them  out." 

"Oho!"  said  I.  "Have  you  had  a  pipe  dream?  Where 
did  you  get  the  dope?" 

"As  God  made  me,"  he  answered,  "it's  the  truth." 

As  he  said  it  the  door  between  the  kitchen  and  the  dining- 
room  smashed  against  its  jamb  with  a  crash  that  sent  a  shiver 
through  the  whole  house  and  brought  a  man  from  the  flat 
overhead  out  into  the  hall,  demanding  to  know  what  was 
the  matter. 

Well,  Catchings  was  satisfied,  but  Hopkins  still  laughed, 
and  told  long  tales  of  things  he  had  read  of  sendings  and 
magic  in  the  East. 

"We  have  to  do  with  neither  sendings  nor  magic,"  replied 
Catchings.  "Life  is  too  short  to  be  wasted  in  investigating 
such  phenomena.  I  prefer  to  let  others  hold  up  the  hands 
of  science  and  go  myself  where  such  things  are  not." 

"Don't  get  nervous,  old  man,"  said  Hopkins.  "Stay  at 
least  until  it  has  given  me  a  chance." 

There  was  a  week  of  quiet.  Every  night  Hopkins  hurried 
through  his  work  to  be  the  first  one  home,  but  it  was  not 
until  last  Thursday  a  week  ago  that  he  got  his  wish. 

Catchings  and  I  got  home  together,  just  before  4  o'clock. 
Hopkins  was  in  the  bath-room.  It  was  a  position  of  van- 
tage, he  said,  from  which  he  could  observe  the^  operations 
on  both  sides  of  him.  Something  had  been  playing  hockey 
in  the  hall  with  the  blue  Chinese  porcelain  umbrella- jar. 
The  game  had  been  going  on,  Hopkins  declared,  for  fully  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  when  we  interrupted  it.      The  jar  would 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLV1TIES.  IO7 

be  rolled  tumultuously  down  the  hall  and  bring  up  with  a 
deafening  crash  against  an  open  door.  Then  the  dining- 
room  door  into  the  kitchen  would  hammer  out  a  thunderous 
applause,  and  the  jar  would  go  tumbling  back  again  along  the 
hall,  to  stop  with  a  shivering  smash  at  the  open  parlor  door. 

So  he  told  it.  When  we  got  in  the  house  was  quiet  and 
the  umbrella-jar  stood  peacefully  erect  and  whole  in  its  placid 
niche  by  the  hat -rack. 

I  do  not  comprehend  such  things.  I  do  not  understand 
how  hat-racks,  and  doors,  and  umbrella-jars,  and  gas-jets, 
made  out  of  metals  which  have  been  inanimate,  as  we  know 
animation,  for  years,  can  suddenly  develop  the  attributes  of 
life  and  attain  voluntary  motion. 

I  do  not  like  such  things  as  have  been  happening  in  our 
house,  and  I  proposed  that  we  move.  Catchings  agreed, 
but  Hopkins  said  wait.  He  is  of  an  investigating  frame  of 
mind,  and  he  was  not  satisfied.     So  we  waited. 

On  Tuesday  of  last  week  we  all  got  home  at  the  same  time 
and  sat  down  together  to  our  supper.  We  had  been  sitting 
for  perhaps  fifteen  minutes  when  the  noise  came.  It  was  the 
tremendous  slamming  of  the  door  into  the  kitchen.  Hop- 
kins, who  specially  desired  the  investigation,  fairly  leaped 
out  of  his  chair.  Catchings,  who  most  wanted  to  avoid  it, 
did  not  show  by  the  movement  of  a  muscle  that  he  had  heard 
the  noise.  As  for  me,  I  sat  still,  but  that  was  because  I  had 
a  reason.  For  I  sat  facing  the  kitchen  door,  and  at  the  very 
moment  it  was  slammed  I  happened  to  be  looking  directly  at 
it.  It  had  not  moved  the  smallest  fraction  of  an  inch,  but 
the  noise  it  made  was  like  the  report  of  a  ducking  gun  on 
Great  South  Bay. 

When  I  said  that  the  door  had  not  moved  Hopkins 
declared  that  I  was  cross-eyed  and  could  not  see.  We 
examined  it  and  found  it  solidly  locked.  Then  Hopkins 
asserted  that  it  was  the  door  from  the  kitchen  into  the  store- 
room that  had  slammed.  We  examined  that.  It  was  shut 
and  locked.  To  determine  accurately  whether  motion  accom- 
panied the  noise  or  not  we  sealed  up  the  windows  and  the 
doors  from  the  storeroom  to  the  dining-room  door  into  the 


]o8  WERNER'S   READINGS   No.  31. 

private  hall  and  retired  into  the  parlor  for  consultation  and 
the  consolation  of  tobacco.  There  followed  a  riot  in  the  rear 
of  our  apartment,  but  we  paid  no  attention  to  it.  After  a 
while  the  doors  got  tired  and  stopped  for  a  rest.  Then  we 
went  out.  We  broke  every  seal  as  we  went  along  and  we 
shot  back  every  bolt.     Not  a  seal  or  a  bolt  had  been  disturbed. 

"The  demonstration  is  satisfactory,"  said  Hopkins,  finally. 
"As  far  as  I  am  concerned  the  investigation  is  closed.  Sup- 
pose we  go  house-hunting  to-morrow." 

This  was,  as  I  said,  on  Tuesday  of  last  week.  We  did  not 
find  a  place  that  suited  us  on  Wednesday  or  Thursday,  but 
the  house  was  quiet  on  both  nights.  On  Friday  morning 
we  all  got  in  together  soon  after  3  o'clock.  We  were  sitting 
in  the  parlor  discussing  the  difficulties  of  moving  when  there 
was  a  soft  knock  at  our  door.  Catchings  answered  it.  Hop- 
kins and  I  heard  him  open  the  door  and  then  there  was  a 
pause.  Then  we  heard  Catchings  say  something,  but  it 
was  in  a  voice  so  low  that  we  could  not  distinguish  his  words. 

"What  is  it,  Jack?"  asked  Hopkins. 

Catchings  made  no  reply  to  us,  but  we  heard  him  say  dis- 
tinctly, "  I  think  you  have  made  a  mistake,  madam." 

Hopkins  and  I  jumped  up  and  went  down  the  hall  together. 
As  we  passed  the  gas-burner,  I  turned  the  light  on  full.  Look- 
ing over  Catchings 's  shoulder  I  saw  standing  in  the  doorway 
a  woman  perhaps  25  years  old.  She  was  in  her  night  robe 
and  her  long,  glossy  black  hair  hung  thickly  over  her  shoulders. 
Her  hands  were  clasped  in  front  of  her.  Her  face  was  abso- 
lutely without  color,  and  her  eyes,  big,  round,  and  deep  black, 
were  staring  straight  over  our  heads  up  the  hall. 

"What  is  it,  Jack?"  Hopkins  asked  again,  as  we  reached 
the  door.     "  What  does  she  want  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Catchings.  "She  doesn't  say." 
Then  addressing  the  woman  he  said  again:  "I  think  you 
have  made  a  mistake,  madam." 

She  did  not  move  a  muscle.  I  was  staring  at  her  with  all 
my  eyes  and  I  could  not  see  her  even  breathe.  Then  Hop- 
kins asked,  and  I  remember  feeling  that  his  voice  was  rough 
and  harsh. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  IOO, 

"Madam,  what  is  it  you  want?" 

Her  expression  never  changed,  and  I  who  was  watching  her 
as  intently  as  it  is  given  to  a  human  being  to  watch,  I  swear 
that  her  lips  did  not  move,  but  she  answered  clearly  and 
distinctly,  although  in  a  voice  that  was  like  a  sigh  of  the 
darkness  on  a  country  road  in  the  summer  when  the  night 
has  been  holding  its  breath  by  the  hour,  and  she  said: 

"Is  Miss  Russell  here?" 

"Ah,"  exclaimed  all  three  of  us  together,  and  with  intona- 
tion of  relief,  "you  have  made  a  mistake.  Miss  Russell 
lives  on  the  floor  below." 

"Oh!"  she  said,  and  turned  about  in  the  hall  as  if  to  go 
down  stairs.  Hopkins  stepped  out  to  turn  up  the  hall-light, 
but  before  he  reached  it  that  happened  which  froze  him  to 
the  spot  where  he  stood.  The  woman  turned  slowly.  Then 
she  went  swiftly  down  the.  seven  steps  of  the  upper  half  of  the 
flight,  and  instead  of  turning  at  the  midway  landing  to  go 
on  down  she  went  straight  through  the  end  wall  of  the  house 
and  out  of  sight. 

"She's  fallen!"  I  cried,  and  down  the  stairs  we  leaped 
together.  For  one  wild  instant  we  all  thought  perhaps  we 
had  not  seen  aright,  and  that  she  had  pitched  over  the  balus- 
trade into  the  open  hallway.  To  the  bottom  we  raced  and 
back  again,  and  saw  nothing  more  than  a  frightened  mouse 
scampering  to  its  hole  in  the  corner.  There  was  our  door 
wide  open,  and  the  gas-jet  flaring  up,  and  the  end  wall  sound 
and  whole  where  the  woman  went  through.  We  went  into 
the  parlor  and  faced  one  another  without  speech,  and  the 
silver  chime  of  the  clock  on  the  mantel  struck  four. 

As  we  went  out  in  the  morning  after  breakfast  we  met  the 
janitor  in  the  hall. 

"How  is  Miss  Russell  to-day? "  asked  Catchings. 

"She  died,  sir,  at  4  o'clock  this  morning,"  answered  the 
man.  He  took  a  photograph  out  of  his  pocket  and  showed  it 
to  us.     "She  was  a  handsome  girl,  sir,"  he  said. 

It  was  a  photograph  of  the  woman  who  went  through  the 
wall. 


HO  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


A  MOST  REMARKABLE  VISION. 


Professor  Hermann  V.  Hilprecht,  of  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania,  had  charge  of  the  excavations  at  Nippur. 

One  Saturday  evening,  about  the  middle  of  March,  1893, 
he  had  been  wearying  himself,  as  he  had  done  so  often  in 
the  weeks  preceding,,  in  the  vain  attempt  to  decipher  two 
small  fragments  of  agate  which  were  supposed  to  belong 
to  the  finger-rings  of  some  Babylonian.  The  labor  was 
much  increased  by  the  fact  that  the  fragments  presented 
remains  only  of  characters  and  lines,  and  that  dozens  of 
similar  fragments  had  been  found  in  the  ruins  of  the  Temple 
of  Bel  at  Nippur,  with  which  nothing  could  be  done;  that 
in  this  case,  furthermore,  he  had  never  had  the  originals 
before  him,  but  only  a  hasty  sketch  made  by  one  of  the 
members  of  the  expedition  sent  by  the  University  of  Penn- 
sylvania to   Babylonia. 

He  could  not  say  more  than  that  the  fragments,  taking 
into  consideration  the  place  in  which  they  were  found  and 
the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  cuneiform  characters 
preserved  upon  them,  sprang  from  the  Cassite  period  of 
Babylonian  history  {circa  1 700-1 140  B.C.);  moreover,  as 
the  first  character  of  the  third  line  of  the  first  fragment 
seemed  to  be  KU,  he  ascribed  the  fragment,  with  an  inter- 
rogation point,  to  King  Kurigalzu,  while  he  placed  the  other 
fragment  as  unclassifiable  with  other  Cassite  fragments 
upon  a  page  of  his  book  where  he  published  the  unclassifiable 
fragments.  The  proofs  already  lay  before  him  but  he  was 
far  from  satisfied.  The  whole  problem  passed  yet  again 
through  his  mind  that  March  evening  before  he  placed  his 
mark  of  approval  under  the  last  correction  in  the  book.  Even 
then  he  had  come  to  no  conclusion.  About  midnight,  weary 
and  exhausted,  he  went  to  bed  and  was  soon  in  deep  sleep. 
Then  he  dreamed  the  following  remarkable  dream : 

A  tall,  thin  priest  of  the  old  pre-Christian  Nippur,  about 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVLTIES.  Ill 

forty  years  of  age  and  clad  as  a  simple  abba,  led  him  into 
the  treasure-chamber  of  the  temple,  on  its  southwest  side. 
He  went  with  him  into  a  small,  low-ceiled  room,  without 
windows,  in  which  there  was  a  large  wooden  chest,  while 
scraps  of  agate  and  lapis-lazuli  lay  scattered  on  the  floor. 
Here  he  addressed  him  as  follows : 

"King  Kurigalzu  {circa  1300  B.C.)  once  sent  to  the  Temple 
of  Bel,  among  other  articles  of  agate  and  lapis-lazuli,  an  in- 
scribed votive  cylinder  of  agate.  Then  we  priests  suddenly 
received  the  command  to  make  for  the  statue  of  the  God 
Ninib  a  pair  of  ear-rings  of  agate.  We  were  in  great  dismay, 
since  there  was  no  agate  as  raw  material  at  hand.  In  order 
to  execute  the  command  there  was  nothing  for  us  to  do 
but  to  cut  the  votive  cylinder  into  three  parts,  thus  making 
three  rings,  each  of  which  contains  a  portion  of  the  original 
inscription.  The  first  two  rings  served  as  ear-rings  for  the 
statue  of  the  god;  the  two  fragments  which  have  given  you 
so  much  trouble  are  portions  of  them.  If  you  put  the  two 
together  you  will  have  confirmed  my  words.  But  the  third 
ring  you  have  not  yet  found  in  the  course  of  your  excava- 
tions, and  you  will  never  find  it." 

With  this  the  priest  disappeared.  He  awoke  at  once  and 
immediately  told  his  wife  the  dream,  that  he  might  not  for-x 
get  it.  Next  morning — Sunday — he  examined  the  fragment? 
once  more  in  the  light  of  these  disclosures,  and  to  his  astonish' 
ment,  found  all  the  details  of  his  dream  precisely  verified  in 
so  far  as  the  means  of  verification  were  in  his  hands.  The 
original  inscription  on  the  votive  cylinder  read:  "To  the 
God  Ninib,  son  of  Bel,  his  lord,  has  Kurigalzu,  pontifex  of 
Bel,  presented  this." 


HIS    FATHER'S    GHOST. 

Mrs.  P.  was  married  in  1867  and  lived  happily  for  two 
years,  when  her  husband  became  greatly  depressed  in  spirits 
and  his  health  began  to  fail.  Something  seemed  to  be  prey- 
ing on  his  mind,  but  all  inquiries  failed  to  elicit  more  than 
the  reply  that  there  was  "nothing  the  matter  with  him,  and 


112  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  bl. 

that  his  wife  was  'too  fanciful.'"  Things  continued  in  this 
way  until  Christmas,  1869.  The  husband  and  wife  went 
upstairs  to  their  chamber  early,  about  9.30,  and  the  hus- 
band went  immediately  to  bed.  Their  baby  girl,  however, 
usually  awoke  about  this  time  and  after  drinking  some  warm 
milk  would  sleep  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  As  she  was  still 
sleeping  Mrs.  P.  lay  down  on  the  outside  of  the  bed,  wrapped 
in  her  dressing-gown,  waiting  for  her  to  wake  and  thinking 
over  the  arrangements  for  the  following  day.  The  door  was 
locked  and  the  lamp  was  burning  brightly  on  a  chest  of 
drawers  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  room.  Suddenly  she  saw 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  between  her  and  the  light, 
the  figure  of  a  man  dressed  in  naval  uniform  and  wearing  a 
peaked  cap  pulled  down  over  his  eyes.  As  his  back  was  to 
the  light  his  face  was  in  the  shadow.  She  spoke  to  her  hus- 
band, saying,  "Willie,  who-  is  this?"  Mr.  P.  turned  and 
looked  in  astonishment  at  the  strange  visitor,  crying  out, 
"What  on  earth  are  you  doing  here,  sir?"  The  apparition 
slowly  drew  itself  erect  and  said  in  a  commanding  but  very 
reproachful  voice,  "Willie!  Willie!"  The  husband  immedi- 
ately sprang  out  of  bed  and  moved  toward  the  figure  as  if  to 
attack  it,  when  it  moved  quietly  away  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion from  the  door  and  disappeared  as  it  were  into  the  wall. 
As  it  passed  the  lamp  a  deep  shadow  fell  upon  the  room,  as  if  a 
material  person  had  intervened  between  the  light  and  the 
spectators.  Mr.  P.  instantly  took  the  lamp  and  unlocking 
the  door  made  a  thorough  search  of  the  house.  When  he 
came  back  he  informed  his  wife  that  the  apparition  was  that 
of  his  father,  who  had  been  dead  fourteen  years.  Early  in 
life  he  had  been  in  the  navy,  but  his  son  had  only  once  or 
twice  seen  him  in  his  uniform.  Mrs.  P.  had  never  seen  her 
husband's  father.  Later  Mr.  P.  became  very  ill  and  revealed 
the  fact  that  he  had  been  on  the  eve  of  acting  upon  the  advice 
of  evil  associates,  and  had,  indeed,  already  done  some  things 
which  later  brought  sorrow  to  the  family,  when  his  father's 
warning  voice  had  called  him  back  from  the  brink  of  the 
precipice.  Mr.  P.  confirms  his  wife's  narrative  in  all  par- 
ticulars. 


HALLO  WE' EN  FESTllsl  TIES.  1 1 3 


SAVED    BY    A    GHOST. 


By  Eben  E.  Rexford. 

Lem'  me  see.  'Twas  in  the  year  i860.  I  was  jest  begin, 
nin'  my  work  on  this  road  that  year.  I'd  been  on  a  road  out 
West,  but  a  friend  got  me  the  position  here  that  I've  kep' 
ever  sence. 

It  was  a  rainy,  disagreeable  day  when  the  affair  I'm  goin' 
to  tell  you  about  happened.  Jest  one  o'  them  days  that 
makes  a  feller  feel  blue  in  spite  of  himself,  an'  he  can't  tell 
why,  neither,  'less  he  lays  it  all  to  the  weather. 

I  don't  know  what  made  me  feel  so,  but  it  seemed  as  if 
there  was  danger  ahead  ever  after  we  left  Wood's  Station. 
An'  what  made  it  seem  so  curious  was  that  the  feelin'  o' 
danger  come  on  me  all  to  once.  It  was  jest  about  four  o'clock, 
as  near  as  I  can  tell.  Anyway,  jest  about  the  time  when  the 
down  express  must  have  got  safely  by  the  place  where  what 
I'm  goin'  to  tell  you  about  happened,  I  was  a-standin'  with 
one  hand  on  a  lever,  a-lookin'  ahead  through  the  drizzlin' 
rain,  feelin'  chilly  an'  kinder  downhearted,  as  I've  said,  though 
I  didn't  know  why,  when  all  of  a  sudden,  the  idea  come  to 
me  that  somethin'  was  wrong  somewhere.  It  took  hold  o'  me 
an'  I  couldn't  git  red  of  it,  nohow. 

It  got  dark  quite  eariy,  on  account  o'  the  fog  an'  the  rain ;  it 
was  dark  as  pitch  afore  we  left  Holbrook,  which  was  the  last 
station  we  passed  afore  we  come  to  the  place  where  I  see  the 
ghost. 

"I  never  felt  so  queer  in  my  life  afore,"  said  Jimmy,  the 
fireman,  to  me,  all  of  a  sudden. 

As  I  was  feelin'  queer  myself,  he  kinder  startled  me,  a  savin' 
what  he  did. 

"Why!  What  d'ye  mean?  "  said  I,  without  lettin'  on  that 
T  felt  uneasy  myself. 


I  14  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  31. 

"Don'  know,"  answered  Jimmy;  "can't  tell  how  I  do  feel, 
on'y  as  if  suthin'  was  goin'  to  happen." 

That  was  jest  it !  I  felt  the  same  thing,  an'  I  told  him  so,  an' 
we  talked  about  it  till  we  both  got  very  fidgety. 

There's  a  purty  sharp  curve  about  twenty  miles  from  Hol- 
brook.  The  road  makes  a  turn  around  a  mountain,  an'  the 
river  runs  below  ye,  about  forty  feet,  or  sech  a  matter.  It 
is  a  pokerish  lookin'  place  when  you  happen  to  be  goin'  over 
it  an'  think  what  'ud  be  if  the  train  should  pitch  over  the 
bluff  inter  the  river. 

Wall,  we  got  to  the  foot  o'  the  mountain  just  where  the 
curve  begins.  The  light  from  the  head-lamp  lit  up  the  track 
and  made  it  bright  as  day,  about  as  fur  as  from  me  to  the 
fence  yonder,  ahead  o'  the  engine.  Outside  o'  that  spot,  all 
was  dark  as  you  ever  see  it,  I'll  bet. 

All  to  once  I  see  suthin'  right  ahead,  in  the  bright  light. 
We  allers  run  slow  around  this  curve,  so  I  could  see  distinct. 
My  hair  riz  right  up,  I  tell  ye,  fer  what  I  see  was  a  man  a-stand- 
in'  right  in  the  middle  o'  the  track,  a-wavin'  his  hands;  an' 
I  grabbed  hold  o'  the  lever  an'  whistled  down  brakes,  an' 
stopped  the  train  as  fast  as  ever  I  could,  fer  ye  see  I  thought 
'twas  a  live  man.  An'  Jimmy  he  see  it,  too,  an'  turned  round 
to  me  with  an  awful  scart  face,  fer  he  thought  sure  he'd  be 
run  over. 

But  I  began  to  see  'twan't  any  flesh-and-blood  man  afore 
the  train  come  to  a  stop,  fer  it  seemed  to  glide  right  along  over 
the  track,  keepin'  jest  about  so  fer  ahead  of  us  all  the  time. 

"It's  a  ghost,"  cried  Jimmy,  a  grabbin'  me  by  the  arm. 
"You  can  see  right  through  him."  f 

An'  we  could! 

Yes,  sir,  we  could.  When- 1  come  to  notice  it,  the  figure 
ahead  o'  us  was  a  kind  o'  foggy-lookin'  thing;  and  only  half 
hid  anything  that  was  behind  it.  But  it  was  jest  as  much 
like  a  man  as  you  be,  an'  you'd  a  said  the  same  thing  if  you'd 
a  seen  it. 

The  train  stopped.  An'  then,  sir,  what  d'ye  think  hap- 
pened? 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTLVITIES.  1 15 

Well  sir,  that  thing  just  grew  thinner  an'  thinner,  till  it 
seemed  to  blend  right  in  with  the  fog  that  was  all  around  it, 
and  the  fust  we  knew  'twas  gone ! 

"It  was  a  ghost!"  said  Jimmy,  in  a  whisper.  "I  knew 
somethin'  was  a-goin'  to  happen,  'cause  I  felt  so  queer  like." 

They  come  a  crowdin'  up  to  find  why  I'd  stopped  the  train, 
an'  I  swear  I  never  felt  so  kind  o'  queer  an'  foolish  as  I  did 
when  I  told  'em  what  I'd  seen  'cause  I  knew  they  didn't 
b'leeve  in  ghosts,  most  likely,  an'  they'd  think  I  was  drunk 
or  crazy. 

"He  see  it,  too,"  sez  I,  a-pointin'  to  Jimmy. 

"Yes,  'fore  God,  I  did,"  sez  Jimmy,  solemn  as  if  he  was  a 
witness  on  the  stand. 

"This  is  a  pretty  how-d'ye  do,"  sez  the  conductor,  who 
didn't  b'leeve  we'd  seen  anything.  "I'm  surprised  at  you, 
Connell;  I  thought  you  was  a  man  o'  sense." 

"I  thought  so,  too,"  sez  I,  "but  I  can't  help  what  I  see. 
If  I  was  a  dyin'  this  minnit  I'd  swear  I  see  a  man  on  the  track, 
or  leastwise  the  ghost  o'  one.  I  thought  'twas  a  real  man 
when  I  whistled." 

"An'  so  would  I,"  sez  Jimmy. 

The  conductor  couldn't  help  seein'  that  we  was  in  earnest, 
and  b'leeved  what  we  said. 

"Take  a  lantern  an'  go  along  the  track,"  sez  he,  to  some  o' 
the  men. 

An'  they  did.     An'  what  d'ye  s'pose  they  found? 

Well,  sir,  they  found  the  rails  all  tore  up  jest  at  the  spot 
where  the  train  would  a  shot  over  the  bluff  into  the  river  if  it 
had  gone  on ! 

Yes,  sir;  they  found  that,  an'  I  tell  you  there  was  some 
pretty  solemn  lookin'  faces  when  it  got  among  the  passengers 
how  near  we'd  been  to  death. 

"I  never  b'leeved  iri  ghosts,"  sez  the  conductor,  "but  I 
b'leeve  you  see  somethin',  Connell,  an'  you've  saved  a  precious 
lot  o'  lives.     That's  a  sure  thing." 

Well,  sir,  they  went  to  huntin'  round,  an'  they  found  a  lot 
o'  tools  an'  things  that  the  men  who'd  tore  up  the  rails  had 


Il6  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

left  in  a  hurry,  when  they  found  the  train  wasn't  goin'  over 
the  bluff  as  they'd  expected.  An'  they  found,  too,  when  it 
come  light,  the  body  o'  the  man  whose  business  it  was  to  see 
to  the  curve ,  where  it  had  been  hid  away  after  bein'  mur- 
dered.    An'  that  man  was  the  man  whose  ghost  we  had  seen. 

Yes,  sir.  He'd  come  to  warn  us  o'  the  danger  ahead  after 
the  men  had  killed  him  an'  was  a-waitin'  for  us  to  go  over  the 
rocks  to  destruction.     An'  he'd  saved  us. 

I  found  out  afterward  that  there  was  a  lot  o'  money  on 
board,  an'  I  s'pose  the  men  who  tore  up  the  track  knew  it. 

So  that's  my  ghoststory,  an'  it's  a  true  one. 


JIMMY  BUTLER  AND  THE  OWL. 

'Twas  in  the  Summer  of  '46  that  I  landed  at  Hamilton, 
fresh  as  a  new  pratie  just  dug  from  the  "ould  sod,"  an'  wid 
a  light  heart  an'  a  heavy  bundle  I  sot  off  for  the  township  of 
Buford,  tiding  a  taste  of  a  song,  as  merry  a  young  fellow  as 
iver  took  the  road.  Well,  I  trudged  on  an'  on,  past  many  a 
plisint  place,  pleasin'  myself  wid  the  thought  that  some  day 
I  might  have  a  place  of  my  own,  wid  a  world  of  chickens  an' 
ducks  an'  pigs  an'  childer  about  the  door;  an'  along  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  sicond  day  I  got  to  Buford  village.  A  cousin 
of  me  mother's,  one  Dennis,  O'Dowd,  lived  about  sivin  miles 
from  there,  an'  I  wanted  to  make  his  place  that  night,  so  I 
inquired  the  way  at  the  tavern,  an'  was  lucky  to  find  a  man 
who  was  goin'  part  of  the  way,  an?  would  show  me  the  way 
to  find  Dennis.  Sure  he  was  very  kind  indade,  an'  when  I 
got  out  of  his  wagon  he  pointed  me  through  the  wood  an' 
tould  me  to  go  straight  south  a  mile  an'  a  half,  an'  the  first 
house  would  be  Dennis's. 

"An'  you've  no  time  to  lose  now,"  said  he,  "for  the  sun  is 
low,  an'  mind  you  don't  get  lost  in  the  woods." 

"Is  it  lost  now,"  said  I,  "that  I'd  be  gittin',  an'  me  uncle 
as  great  a  navigator  as  iver  steered  a  ship  across  the  thrackless 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  II 7 

say?     Not  a  bit  of  it,  though  I'm  obleeged  to  ye  for  youi  kind 
advice,  an'  thank  yiz  for  the  ride." 

An'  wid  that  he  drove  off  an'  left  me  alone.  I  shouldered 
me  bundle  bravely,  an',  whistlin'  a  bit  of  time  for  company 
like,  I  pushed  into  the  bush.  Well,  I  went  a  long  way  over 
bogs,  an'  turnin'  round  among  the  bush  an'  trees  till  I  began 
to  think  I  must  be  well  nigh  to  Dennis's.  But,  bad  cess  to 
it !  all  of  a  sudden  I  came  out  of  the  woods  at  the  very  iden- 
tical spot  where  I  started  in,  which  I  knew  by  an  ould 
crotched  tree  that  seemed  to  be  standin'  on  its  head  an'  kick- 
in'  up  its  heels  to  make  divarsion  of  me.  By  this  time  it 
was  growin'  dark,  an',  as  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  I  started 
in  a  second  time,  determined  to  keep  straight  south  this  time, 
an'  no  mistake.  I  got  on  bravely  for  a  while,  but  och  hone! 
och  hone!  it  got  so  dark  I  couldn't  see  the  trees,  an'  I  bumped 
me  nose  an'  barked  me  shins,  while  the  miskaties  bit  me 
hands  an'  face  to  a  blister;  an',  after  tumblin'  an'  stumblm' 
around  till  I  was  fairly  bamfoozled,  I  sat  down  on  a  log,  all  of 
a  trimble,  to  think  that  I  was  lost  intirely,  an'  that  maybe 
a  lion  or  some  other  wild  craythur  would  devour  me  before 
morning. 

Just  then  I  heard  somebody  a  long  way  off  say,  "Whip 
poor  Will!  "  "Bedad,"  sez  I,  "I'm  glad  it  isn't  Jamie  that's 
got  to  take  it,  though  it  seems  it's  more  in  sorrow  than  in 
anger  they  are  doin'  it,  or  why  should  they  say,  '  poor  Will'? 
an'  sure  they  can't  be  Injin,  haythin,  or  naygur,  for  it's  plain 
English  they're  afther  spakin'.  Maybe  they  might  help  me 
out  o'  this,"  so  I  shouted  at  the  top  of  my  voice  ,"  A  lost  man!  " 
Thin  I  listened.     Prisently  an  answer  came. 

"Who!    Whoo!    Whooo!" 

"Jamie  Butler,  the  waiver!"  sez  I,  as  loud  as  I  could  roar, 
an',  snatchin'  up  me  bundle  an'  stick,  I  started  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  voice.     Whin  I  thought  I  had  got  near  the  place 
I  stopped  an'  shouted  again,  "A  lost  man!  " 

"Who!   Whoo!   Whooo!  "  said  a  voice  right  over  my  head. 

"Sure,"  thinks  I,  "it's  a  mighty  quare  place  for  a  man  to 
be  at  this  time  of  night;    maybe  it's  some  settler  scrapin' 


Il8  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

sugar  off  a  sugar-bush  for  the  children's  breakfast  in  the. 
mornin'.  But  where's  Will  and  the  rest  of  them?  "  All  this 
wint  through  me  head  like  a  flash,  an'  thin  I  answered  his 
inquiry. 

"Jamie  Butler,  the  waiver,"  sez  I;  "an'  if  it  wouldn't 
inconvanience  yer  Honor,  would  yez  be  kind  enough  to  step 
down  an'  show  me  the  way  to  the  house  of  Dennis  O'Dowd?" 

"Who!   Whoo!   Whooo!  "  sez  he. 

"Dennis  O'Dowd,"  sez  I,  civil  enough,  "an'  a  dacent  man 
he  is,  and  first  cousin  to  me  own  mother." 

"Who!   Whoo!   Whooo!"  says  he  again. 

"Me  mother!"  sez  I,  "an'  as  fine  a  woman  as  iver  peeled  a 
biled  pratie  wid  her  thumb  nail,  an'  her  maiden  name  was 
Molly  McFiggin." 

"Who!    Whoo!    Whooo!" 

"Paddy  McFiggin!  bad  luck  to  yer  deaf  ould  head,  Paddy 
McFiggin,  I  say, — do  ye  hear  that?  An'  he  was  the  tallest 
man  in  all  the  county  Tipperary,  excipt  Jim  Doyle,  the  black- 
smith." 

"Who!    Whoo!    Whooo!" 

"Jim  Doyle  the  blacksmith,"  sez  I,  "ye  good  for  nothin' 
blaggard  naygur,  an',  if  viz  don't  come  down  and  show  me 
the  way  this  minit,  I'll  climb  up  there  an'  break  every  bone 
in  your  skin,  ye  spalpeen,  so  sure  as  me  name  is  Jimmy 
Butler." 

"Who!  Whoo!  Whooo!  "  sez  he,  as  impident  as  iver. 

I  said  nivir  a  word,  but  lavin'  down  me  bundle,  an'  takin' 
me  stick  in  me  teeth,  I  began  to  climb  the  tree.  Whin  I, 
got  among  the  branches  I  looked  quietly  around  till  I  saw  a 
pair  of  big  eyes  just  forninst  me. 

"Whist,"  sez  I,  "an'  I'll  let  him  have  a  taste  of  an  Irish 
stick,"  an'  wid  that  I  let  drive,  an'  lost  me  balance  an'  came 
tumblin'  to  the  ground,  nearly  breakin\me  neck  wid  the  fall. 
When  I  came  to  me  sinsis  I  had  a  very  sore  head,  wid  a  lump 
on  it  like  a  goose  egg,  an'  half  of  me  Sunday  coat-tail  torn 
off  intirely.  I  spoke  to  the  chap  in  the  tree,  but  could  git 
niver  an  answer  at  all,  at  all. 


HALLOWE'EN  FESTIVITIES.  HQ 

"Sure,"  thinks  I,  "he  must  have  gone  home  to  rowl  up 
his  head,  for  by  the  powers  I  didn't  throw  me  stick  for 
nothin'." 

Well,  by  this  time  the  moon  was  up,  an'  I  could  see  a  little, 
an'  I  detarmined  to  make  one  more  effort  to  reach  Dennis's. 

I  wint  on  cautiously  for  a  while,  an'  thin  I  heard  a  bell. 
"Sure,"  sez  I,  "I'm  comin'  to  a  sittlemint  now,  for  I  hear 
the  church  bell."  I  kept  on  toward  the  sound  till  I  came  to 
an  ould  cow  wid  a  bell  on.  She  started  to  run,  but  I  was 
too  quick  for  her,  an'  got  her  by  the  tail  an'  hung  on,  thinkin' 
that  maybe  she  would  take  me  out  of  the  woods.  On  we 
wint,  like  an  ould  country  steeplechase,  till,  sure  enough, 
we  came  out  to  a  clearin',  an'  a  house  in  sight  wid  a  light  in 
it.  So,  leavin'  the  ould  cow  puffin'  an'  blowin'  in  a  shed,  I 
wint  to  the  house,  an',  as  luck  would  have  it,  whose  should 
it  be  but  Dennis's? 

He  gave  me  a  raal  Irish  welcome,  an'  introduced  me  to  his 
two  daughters — as  purty  a  pair  of  girls  as  iver  ye  clapped 
an  eye  on.  But,  whin  I  tould  him  me  adventure  in  the 
woods,  an'  about  the  fellow  who  made  fun  of  me,  they  all 
laughed  an'  roared,  an'  Dennis  said  it  was  an  owl. 

"An  ould  what?  "  sez  I. 
'Why,  an  owl,  a  bird,"  sez  he. 

"Do  ye  tell  me  now?  "  sez  I.  "Sure  it's  a  quare  country 
and  a  quare  bird." 

An'  thin  they  all  laughed  again,  till  at  last  I  laughed  my- 
self that  hearty  like,  an'  dropped  right  into  a  chair  between 
the  two  purty  girls,  an'  the  ould  chap  winked  at  me  and 
roared  again. 

Dennis  is  me  father-in-law  now,  an'  he  often  yet  delights 
to  tell  our  children  about  their  daddy's  adventure  wid  the 
owl. 


120  WERNER S  READINGS  No.  31. 


Queen   Mab. 


By  William  Shakespeare. 


[From  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream."] 

O,  then  I  see,  Queen  Mab  hath  been  with  you, 

She  is  the  fairies' midwife:  and  she  conies 

In  shape  no  bigger  than  an  agate  stone 

On  the  forefinger  of  an  alderman, 

Drawn  with  a  team  of  atomies 

Athwart  men's  noses  as  they  lie  asleep: 

Her  wagon-spokes  made  of  long  spinners'  legs; 

The  cover,  of  the  wings  of  grasshoppers; 

The  traces,  of  the  smallest  spider's  web; 

The  collars,  of  the  moonshine's  watery  beams; 

Her  whip  of  cricket's  bone;  the  lash,  of  film; 

Her  wagoner,  a  small  gray-coated  gnat, 

Her  chariot  is  an  empty  hazel-nut, 

Made  by  the  joiner  squirrel,  or  old  grub, 

And  in  this  state  she  gallops  night  by  night, 

Through  lovers'  brains,  and  then  they  dream  of  love. 


PART  II. 

HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS. 


Popping  Corn. 


Oh,  the  sparkling  eyes, 

In  a  fairy  ring! 
Ruddy  glows  the  fire, 

And  the  corn  we  bring; 
Tiny  lumps  of  gold, 

One  by  one  we  drop; 
Give  the  pan  a  shake; — 

Pip!  pop!  pop! 

Pussy  on  the  mat 
Wonders  at  the  fun; 

Merry  little  feet 

Round  the  kitchen  run ; 

Smiles  and  pleasant  words 
Never,  never  stop; — 

Lift  the  cover  now; — 

'    Pip!  pop  pop! 


What  a  pretty  change! 

Where's  the  yellow  gold? 
Here  are  snowy  lambs 

Nestling  in  the  fold; 
Some  are  wide  awake, 

On  the  floor  they  hop ; 
Ring  the  bell  for  tea! 

Pip!  pop  pop! 
123 


124  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 


The   Witch's   Cavern. 


By  Bulwer  Lytton. 


[From  "The  Last  Days  of  Pompeii."] 

A  fire  burned  in  the  far  recess  of  the  cave;  and  over  it 
was  a  small  caldron;  on  a  tall  and  thin  column  of  iron  stood 
a  rude  lamp;  over  that  part  of  the  wall,  at  the  base  of  which 
burned  the  fire,  hung  in  many  rows,  as  if  to  dry,  a  profusion 
of  herbs  and  weeds.  A  fox,  couched  before  the  fire,  gazed 
upon  the  strangers  with  its  bright  and  red  eye — its  hair 
bristling — and  a  low  growl  stealing  from  between  its  teeth; 
in  the  center  of  the  cave  was  an  earthen  statue,  which  had 
three  heads  of  singular  and  fantastic  cast.  A  low  tripod 
stood  before  this. 

But  it  was  not  these  appendages  ...  of  the  cave  that 
thrilled  the  blood  of  those  who  gazed  fearfully  therein — it 
was  the  face  of  its  inmate.  Before  the  fire,  with  the  light 
shining  full  upon  her  features,  sat  a  woman  of  considerable 
age.  Her  countenance  betrayed  the  remains  of  a  regular, 
but  high  and  aquiline  order  of  feature;  with  stony  eyes 
turned  upon  them — with  a  look  that  met  and  fascinated 
theirs — they  beheld  in  that  fearful  countenance  the  very 
image  of  a  corpse! 

Glaucus.  It  is  a  dead  thing. 

Ione.   Nay — it  stirs — it  is  a  ghost! 

Slave.  Oh,  away — away!     It  is  the  witch  of  Vesuvius! 

Witch.  Who  are  ye?     And  what  do  ye  here? 

Glaucus.  We  are  storm-beaten  wanderers  from  the  neigh- 
boring city;  we  crave  shelter  and  the  comfort  of  your  hearth. 

Witch.  Come  to  the  fire  if  ye  will!  I  never  welcome 
living  thing — save  the  owl,  the  fox,  the  toad,  and  the  viper— 
so  I  cannot  welcome  ye;  but  come  to  the  fire  without  wel- 
come— why  stand  upon  form  ? 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  12$ 

Ione.  We  disturb  you,  I  fear. 

Witch.  Tell  me,  are  ye  brother  and  sister? 

Ione.   No. 

Witch.  Are  ye  married? 

Glaucus.  Not  so. 

Witch.   Ho,  lovers!  ha!  ha!  ha! 

Glaucus.   Why  dost  thou  laugh,  old  crone? 

Witch.   Did  I  laugh? 

Glaucus.   She  is  in  her  dotage. 

Witch.  Thou  liest. 

Ione.   Hush!     Provoke  her  not,  dear  Glaucus. 

Witch.  I  will  tell  thee  why  I  laughed  when  I  discovered 
ye  were  lovers.  It  was  because  it  is  a  pleasure  to  the  old 
and  withered  to  look  upon  young  hearts  like  yours— and  to 
know  the  time  will  come  when  you  will  loathe  each  other — 
loathe — loathe — ha!  ha!  ha! 

Ioxe.  The  gods  forbid.  Yet,  poor  woman,  thou  knowest 
little  of  love,  or  thou  wouldst  know  that  it  never  changes. 

Witch.  Was  I  young  once,  think  ye?  And  am  I  old,  and 
hideous,  and  deathly  now?  Such  as  is  the  form,  so  is  the 
heart. 

Glaucus.  Hast  thou  dwelt  here  long? 

Witch.  Ah,  long! — yes. 

Glaucus.  It  is  but  a  drear  abode. 

Witch.  Ha!  thou  mayst  well  say  that — Hell  is  beneath  us! 
And  I  will  tell  thee  a  secret — the  dim  things  below  are  pre- 
paring wrath  for  ye  above. 

Glaucus.  Thou  utterest  but  evil  words.  In  the  future,  I 
will  brave  the  tempest  rather  than  thy  welcome. 

Witch.  Thou  wilt  do  well.  None  should  ever  seek  me, 
save  the  wretched! 

Glaucus.  And  why  the  wretched? 

Witch.  I  am  the  witch  of  the  mountain;  my  trade  is  to 
give  hope  to  the  hopeless;  for  the  crossed  in  love,  I  have 
philtres;  for  the  avaricious,  promises  of  treasure;  for  the 
happy  and  the  good,  I  have  only  what  life  has — curses! 
Trouble  me  no  more. 


126  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  81. 

As  Glaucus  now  turned  towards  the  witch,  he  perceived 
for  the  first  time,  just  under  her  seat,  the  bright  gaze  and 
crested  head  of  a  large  snake.  Whether  it  was  that  the  vivid 
coloring  of  the  Athenian's  cloak,  thrown  over  the  shoulders  of 
lone,  attracted  the  reptile's  anger — its  crest  began  to  glow 
and  rise,  as  if  menacing  and  preparing  itself  to  spring  upon 
the  Neapolitan.  Glaucus  caught  quickly  at  one  of  the 
half-burned  logs  upon  the  hearth;  and,  as  if  enraged  at  the 
action,  the  snake  came  forth  from  its  shelter,  and  with 
a  loud  hiss  raised  itself  on  end,  till  its  height  nearly  ap- 
proached that  of  the  Greek. 

Glaucus.  Witch,  command  thy  creature,  or  thou  wilt  see  it 
dead! 

Witch.   It  has  been  despoiled  of  its  venom. 

Ere  the  words  had  left  her  lips,  the  snake  had  sprung 
upon  Glaucus;  the  agile  Greek  leaped  lightly  aside,  and 
struck  so  fell  a  blow  on  the  head  of  the  snake,  that  it  fell 
prostrate  and  writhing  among  the  embers  of  the  fire. 

The  hag  sprung  up,  and  stood  confronting  Glaucus  with  a 
face  which  would  have  befitted  the  fiercest  of  the  Furies. 

Witch.  Thou  hast  had  shelter  under  my  roof,  and  warmth 
at  my  hearth;  thou  hast  returned  evil  for  good;  thou  hast 
smitten  and  slain  the  thing  that  loved  me  and  was  mine; 
now  hear  thy  punishment.  I  curse  thee!  and  thou  art 
cursed!  May  thy  love  be  blasted — may  thy  name  be  black- 
ened— may  the  infernals  mark  thee — may  thy  heart  wither 
and  scorch — may  thy  last  hour  recall  to  thee  the  prophet 
voice  of  the  Saga  of  Vesuvius! 

Long  and  loud  rang  the  echoes  of  the  cavern  with  the 
dread  laugh  of  the  Saga. 

The  lovers  gained  the  open  air. 

"Alas!"  said  lone,  "my  soul  feels  the  omen  of  evil. 
Preserve  us,  oh,  ye  gods!" 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  127 

Ghos'   Stories. 


By  Flavia  Rosser. 


These  nights  'r  sort  'r  gray  an'  still; 
The  frogs  sing  awful  ahin'  the  hill, 
'N'  all  the  chil'ren  in  our  end  o'  town 
Jes'  hurry  their  bread  'n'  butter  down, 
'N'come  to  our  ol'  apple  tree 
Tuh  tell  ghos'  stories,  after  tea. 

Ef  we  get  tuh  stay  till  in  the  night, 

We  huddle  all  tuhgether  tight — 

Cos  its  shivery  down  your  back,  yuh  know, 

When  th'  leaves  an'  shadders  wiggle  so. 

But  we're  alluz  a-wishin'  'at  we  could  see 

Th'  ghos'  ccme  from  ahin'  th'  tree. 

They  never  come — we've  spells  and  things, 
An'  words  tuh  say,  an'  magic  rings ; 
We  say  'em,  an'  do  'em,  an'  talk,  an'  talk, 
'N'  if  a  cricket  hollers  under  the  walk, 
Th'  girls  all  squeal,  an'  then,  yuh  know, 
We're  afraid  tuh  stay,  an'  afraid  tuh  go. 

I  tol'  ol'  Mister  Crooked  Green, 

Th'  one  wot  walks  with  a  stick,  I  mean, 

About  th'  ghos'  stories,  an'  he  stopped  at  that, 

An'  patted  me  on  top  my  hat. 

He  said  we'd  see  'em,  when  we're  men, 

An'  wouldn't  want  'em  a-comin'  then. 

He  talked  a  lot  about  spirits  o'  sin, 

An'  ghos'es  o'  things  wot  might  o'  been. 

He  said,  a-comin'  'round  every  tree 

Would  be  ghos'es  o'  things  wot  used  tuh  be. 

I  don't  much  believe  thet  he  is  right, 

But  it's  a  good  un  „uh  tell  th'  boys  tuh-night. 


128  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.   31. 


The  Ghost  of  a  Flower. 


"You're  what?"  asked  the  common  or  garden  spook 

Of  a  stranger  at  midnight's  hour. 
And  the  shade  replied  with  a  graceful  glide, 

"Why,  I'm  the  ghost  of  a  flower." 

"The  ghost  of  a  flower?"  said  the  old-time  spook; 

"That's  a  brand-new  one  on  me; 
I  never  supposed  a  flower  had  a  ghost, 

Though  I've  seen  the  shade  of  a  tree." 


Don   Squixet's   Ghost. 


By  Harry  Bolingbroke. 


"Well,  now,  spakin'  o'  Father  Doyle,  reminds  me  of  the 
time  whin  I  fust  dug  his  peaytees  for  him;  let  me  see;  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know  how  many  years  agone,  now;  but  faix,  'tis 
meself  was  only  a  big  lump  of  a  gurrul  thin.  Oah!  but  I'll 
niver  forget  that  day,  if  I  lives  to  be  as  ould  as  Buckley's  goat. 

"Me  and  Biddy  Morrissy  were  diggin'  his  riv'rince's  peay- 
tees,— 'twas  about  tin  o'clock  in  the  mornin', — and  turnin' 
up  the  painted  ladies  as  purty  as  iver  you  see,  whin  along  come 
the  ould  rousther,  and  a  half  dozen  hens  wid  him,  struttin' 
along,  and  peckin'  the  peaytees  like  fine  fellows;  and  'twas 
niver  a  bit  of  use  in  uz  sayin'  'whist!'  for  there  the  ould  hay- 
then  'ud  peck  and  peck,  scratch  and  scratch,  till  says  I,  'Me 
boy,  I'll  soon  see  whether  or  no  me  or  you  is  the  better  man; 
so  I  ups  wid  a  big  lump  of  a  peaytee  and  laves  'im  have  it  in 
the  eye;  and  over  he  goes,  flipperty-flap,  as  dead  as  a  herrin'. 

" '  Och,  mallia ! '  says  Biddy,  says  she ;  '  now,  Kitty,  you  may 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  1 29 

go  and  hang  yerself,'  says  she,  '  fur  his  riv'rince'll  niver  forgive 
ye  killin'  that  bird,'  says  she,  half-frightened  out  of  her  wits. 

"'Faix,  I  don't  care,'  says  I.  'What  business  had  he 
peckin'  the  peaytees,  thin?'  says  I,  all  of  a  trimble. 

' '  Oh,'  says  she, '  you'll  know  what ;  and,  by  the  same  token, 
here  comes  himself  now;  and  you'd  better  dig  a  hole  as  quick 
as  you  can,  and  pitch  the  ould  rousther  in  it,'  says  she. 

"So  I  looks  round,  and  sure  enough,  there  was  his  riv'rince 
walkin'  slowly  towards  us,  in  the  trench,  wid  a  pinch  of  snuff 
betune  his  finger  and  thumb,  lookin'  to  the  one  side  and  the 
other.  Well,  begannies,  it  wasn't  long  I  was  diggin'  a  hole, 
and  coverin'  up  the  ould  rousther  in  it,  and  scatterin'  the 
peaytees  over  the  place ;  and  thin  I  felt  as  guilty  as  if  it  was 
a  man  I  murdered.  By  and  by  himself  comes  along;  me 
heart  was  thumpin'  away  inside;  ye  could  hear  it  a  mile  off, 
as  one  may  say. 

"His  riv'rince  talked  about  the  weather,  and  the  peaytees, 
and  this  and  that,  and  there  was  his  fut  widin'  a  yard  of  the 
place. 

"'Honey,'  says  he,  'you  shouldn't  lave  the  hens  be  after 
pecking  the  peaytees!  '  says  he;  'they'll  spoil  more  than 
they're  worth,'  says  he. 

Humph!   'tis  meself  can't  keep  'em  away,'  says  I. 

Oh,  botheration!  but  you  must  drive  'em  away,'  says  he. 

Faix,  they  won't  stay  druv,'  I  says. 

"'Why,  then,  Kitty,'  says  he,  'my  honey,'  says  he,  'you 
must  knock  'em  down,'  says  he. 

"'Oh,  wisha,  good-morrow  to  ye,  Father  Doyle,'  says  I. 

'"Why  so?'  says  he. 

"'Is  it  knock  'em  down?'  says  I. 

"'Yes,'  says  he,  'it  is.' 

" '  Humph !'  says  I ;  '  if  I  did  that  same,  maybe  yer  riv'rince 
'ud  niver  forgive  me  for  doin'  av  it!'  says  I. 

"'Yes,  I  would,  honey;   why  not?'  says  he. 

" '  What,  if  I  killed  one  of  yer  hens?'  says  I. 

" '  Did  I  say  kill?'  says  he;  'I  said,  knock  'em  down;  that's 
all.' 


130  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

'"Hah,  yer  riv'rince,'  says  I,  'I'm  thinkin'  I  won't  thry  it!' 

"  Oh,  didn't  I  feel  as  if  I  wasn't  spakin'  the  truth  to  him! 

"'Humph!'  says  he,  lookin'  round,  and  takin'  a  pinch  cf 
•snuff ;  'it  surprises  me  not  to  see  Don  Squixet  here,  any  way; 
he's  always  the  first  into  mischief,  and  the  last  to  lave  it.' 

"Dad,  thinks  I  to  meself ,  if  he  means  the  ould  rousther,  he's 
the  fust  to  lave  it  this  time,  any  way.  'But',  says  I,  'and 
who's  Don  Squixet  ?  '  I  axes,  wid  me  heart  into  me  mouth. 

"'Ha!  that's  what  I  call  the  ould  cock,'  says  he;  'but  the 
rascal  is  up  to  some  mischief  now,  I  go  bail,  or  he'd  be  here,' 
says  Father  Doyle. 

"Well,  whether  to  down  on  me  two  knees  (savin'  yer 
prisence)  and  confess  all,  or  lave  him  to  find  it  out,  I  didn't 
know;  when  all  to  once  the  peaytees  right  furninst  us  begun 
to  move,  and  roll  the  one  over  the  other. 

"'Oah!  what's  that,  Kitty?'  cries  Father  Doyle.  'Be  the 
powers,  there's  somethin'  comin'  up  through  the  yearth!  ' 

"Faix,  'twas  meself  thought  I'd  sink  down  through  it;  for 
just  then  up  comes  the  head  of  the  ould  rousther  himself,  bad 
scran  to  him,  lookin'  round  to  make  out  where  he  was.  Awe! 
I  couldn't  tell  yees  how  I  felt.  I  fell  down  on  me  knees,  and 
ax;d  his  riv'rince  to  forgive  a  poor  crayter  the  sin  av  it.  But, 
by  and  by,  when  the  ould  scamp  got  up  and  shuck  himself,  and 
clapped  his  wings,  and  crowed,  bedad,  I  thought  his  riv'rince 
would  split  laughin',  as  well  as  Biddy.  And  when  Father 
Doyle  could  spake,  says  he,  wipin'  his  eyes  wid  his  kurcher, 
'Kitty,'  says  he,  'always  be  sure  a  body's  dead,'  says  he,  'be- 
fore you  inters  it,'  he  says.  'But  see  now,  if  you  kill  any  av 
'em  outright,  another  time,'  says  he,  '  just  bring  the  remains  to 
me,'  he  says, '  and  we'll  have  a  dish  of  broth  out  of  it,  anyway,' 
says  he.  And  wid  that,  he  set  up  a-laughin'  again,  and 
walked  off,  shakin'  his  sides;  and  I  s'pose,  if  he  told  that  story 
once,  he  did  the  Lord  knows  how  many  times.  But  he  niver 
seed  me,  to  this  day,  but  he  alius  axed  when  I  seen  Don 
Squir?t's  Ghost  last." 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  I3I 


At   Candle-Lightin'   Time. 


By  Paul  Laurence  Dunbar. 


[By  permission  of  the  Author.] 

When  I  come  in  f'om  de  co'n-nel'  aft  ah  wukin'  ha'd  all  day, 
It's  amazin'  nice  to  fin'  my  suppah  all  erpon  de  way; 
An'  it's  nice  to  smell  de  coffee  bubblin'  ovah  in  de  pot, 
An'  it's  fine  to  see  de  meat  a-sizzlin'  teasin'-lak  an'  hot. 

But  when  suppah-time  is  ovah,  an'  de  things  is  chared  away, 
Den  de  happy  hours  dat  foller  are  de  sweetes'  of  de  day. 
When  my  co'n-cob  pipe  is  sta'ted,  an'  de  smoke  is  drawin' 

prime, 
My  ole  'ooman  says,  "I  reckon,  Ike,  it's  candle-lightin'  time.' 

Den  de  chillun  snuggle  up  to  me,  an'  all  commence  to  call, 
"Oh,  say,  daddy,  now  it's  time  to  mek  de  shadders  on  de  wall." 
So  I  puts  my  han's  togethah, — evah  daddy  knows  de  way, — 
An'  de  chillun'  snuggle  closer  roun'  ez  I  begin  to  say: 

"Fus  thing,  hyeah  come  Mistah  Rabbit;    don'  you  see  him 

wuk  his  eahs? 
Huh  uh!  dis  urns'  be  a  donkey;  look  how  innercent  he  'pears! 
Dah's  de  ole  black  swan  a-swimmin' — ain't  she  got  a'  awful 

neck? 
Who's  dis  feller  dat's  comin'?     Why,  dat    s  ole  dog  Tray,  I 

'spec'!" 

Dat's  de  way  I  run  on,  tryin'  fu  to  please  'em  all  I  can; 
Den  I  hollahs,  "Now  be  keerful— dis  hyeah   las'   's  de  buga- 
man!" 


132  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

An'  dey  runs  an'  hides  dey  faces;    dey  ain't  skeered — dey's 

lettin'  on; 
But  de  play  ain't  raaly  ovah  'twell  dat  buga-man  is  gone. 

So  I  jes  teks  up  my  banjo,  an'  I  plays  a  little  chune, 
An'  you  see  dem  haids  come  peepin'  out  to  listen  mighty  soon. 
Den  my  wife  say,  "  Sich  a  pappy  fu  to  gin  you  sich  a  fright ! 
Jes  you  go  to  baid,  an'  leave  him;    say  yo'  prayers,  an'say 
good  night." 


Sweet  William's   Ghost. 


As  May  Margaret  sat  in  her  bowerie,  in  her  bower  all  alone, 
Just  at  the  parting  o'  midnight,  she  heard  a  mournful  moan. 
"  Oh,  is  it  my  father,  oh,  is  it  my  mother,  oh,  is  it  my  brother 

John; 
Or  is  it  Sweet  William,  my  ain  true  love,  to  Scotland  new 

come  home?" 

"It  is  na  thy  father,  it  is  na  thy  mother,  it  is  na  thy  brother 

John; 
But  it  is  Sweet  William,  thy  ain  true  love,  to  Scotland  new 

come  home." 
"Oh,  hae  ye  brought  onie  fine  things,  onie  new  things  for  to 

wear, 
Or  hae  ye  brought  me  a  braid  of  lace  to  snood  up  my  gowden 

hair?" 

"  I've  brought  you  no  fine  things,  nor  onie  new  things  to  wear, 
Nor  have  I  brought  you  a  braid  of  lace  to  snood  up  your 

gowden   hair. 
Oh,  dear  Margaret,  oh,  sweet  Margaret,  I  pray  thee  speak  to 

me; 
Gie  me  my  faith  and  troth,  Margaret,  as  I  gave  it  to  thee! " 

"Thy  faith  and  troth  thou's  never  get,  nor  yet  will  I  thee  lend, 
Till  thou  come  within  my  bower  and  kiss  my  cheek  and  chin." 


HALLO  WE' EX  RECITATIONS.  1 33 

"  If  I  should  come  within  thy  bower, — I  am  no  mortal  man, — 
And  should  I  kiss  thy  rosy  lips,  thy  days  would  not  be  lang. 

"  Oh,  dear  Margaret,  oh,  sweet  Margaret,  I  pray  thee  speak  to 

me; 
Gie  me  my  faith  and  troth,  Margaret,  as  I  gave  it  to  thee ! " 
"Thy  faith  and  troth  thou's  never  get,  nor  yet  will  I  thee  lend, 
Till  thou  take  me  to  yon  kirk-yard,  and  wed  me  with  a  ring." 

"My  bones  are  buried  in  yon  kirk-yard,  afar  beyond  the  sea. 
And  'tis  but  my  spirit,  Margaret,  that's  speaking  now  to  thee!  " 
She  stretched  out  her  lily-white  hand,  and  for  to  do  her  best ; 
"  Hae  there  your  faith  and  troth,  Willy,  God  send  your  sou] 
to  rest!" 

And  now  she  has  kilted  her  robes  of  green  a  piece  below  the 

knee, 
And  a'  the  live-lang  winter  night  the  dead  corpse  followed  she. 
"  Is  there  onie  room  at  your  head,  Willy,  or  onie  room  at  your 

feet, 
Is  there  onie  room  at  your  side,  Willy,  wherein  that  I  mav 

creep?" 

"There's  na  room  at  my  head,  Margaret,  there's  na  room  at 

my  feet, 
There's  na  room  at  my  side,  Margaret,  my  coffin's  made  so 

meet." 
Then  up  and  crew  the  red,  red  cock,  and  up  then  crew  the 

gray; 
"  'Tis  time,  'tis  time,  my  dear  Margaret,  that  you  were  going 

away ! ' ' 

No  more  the  ghost  to  Margaret  said,  but  with  a  grievous  groan 

Evanished  in  a  cloud  of  mist  and  left  her  all  alone. 

"O  stay,  my  only  true  love,  stay!"  the  constant  Margaret 

cried ; 
Wan  grew  her  cheeks,  she  closed  her  een,  stretched  her  soft 

limbs,  and  died. 


134  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  31. 

Glioses. 


By  James  D.  Corrothers. 


Dey  may  be  glioses,  er  dey  may  be  none; 

I  takes  no  chances  on  de  thaing,  mase'f ; 
'T  won't  neber  shorten  no  man's  life  to  run, 

When  somethin'  'nother's  skeert  'im  mose  to  deff. 

De  white  man's  logic  may  be  all-sufhcin' 

Foh  white  folks — in  de  day-time ;  but  dey's  quar 

Thaings  seen  at  night;   'n'  when  ma  wool's  a-risin', 
Dese  feet  o'  mine  is  gwine  to  bu'n  de  a'r! 

Ain't  gwine  to  pestah  wid  no  'vestigation, 

Ma  business  is  to  git  away  f'om  dah 
;Fas'  's  I  kin — towards  my  destination — 

De  ghose  ain't  bo'n  kin  ketch  me,  nuther,  sah! 


The  One  Thing  Needful. 

On  Hallowe'en  when  the  lanterns  glow 
Ruddy  and  round  o'er  the  throng  below, 
Each  pumpkin-face  wears  a  ghastly  grin, 
Wide  enough  to  swallow  one  in — - 
Yellow  noddles  ranged  in  a  row. 

Why  should  the  lantern  mock  us  so, 
Gypsy  lasses  who  to  and  fro 
Swing  in  the  dance  with  merry  din 

On  Hallowe'en? 

This  is  the  reason,  if  you  would  know, 
Spite  of  our  charms — of  course  of  dough, 
Seeds  and  apples  and  twirling  pin — 
The  law  of  our  college  has  ever  been 
That  one  may  have  but  a  ghostly  beau 

On  Hallowe'en 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  lj? 


Seem'   Things. 


■  By  Eugene  Field. 


I  ain't  afeard  uv  snakes,  or  toads,  or  bugs,  or  worms,  or  mice, 
An'  things  'at  girls  are  skeered  uv  I  think  are  awful  nice! 
I'm  pretty  brave,  I  guess;    an'  yet  I  hate  to  go  to  bed, 
For,  when  I'm  tucked  up  warm  an'  snug  an'  when  my  prayers 

are  said, 
Mother  tells  me  "Happy  dreams!"  an'  takes  away  the  light. 
An'  leaves  me  lyih'  all  alone  an'  seein'  things  at  night. 

Sometimes  they're  in  the  corner,  sometimes  they're  by  the 

door, 
Sometimes  they're  all  a-standin'  in  the  middle  uv  the  floor; 
Sometimes  they  are  a-sittin'  down,  sometimes  they're  walkin' 

round 
So  softly  an'  so  creepy-like  they  never  make  a  sound; 
Sometimes  they  are  as  black  as  ink,  an'  other  times  they're 

white. 
But  the    color   ain't   no   difference  when  you  see  things  at 

night ! 

Once,  when  I  licked  a  feller  'at  had  just  moved  on  our  street, 

An'  father  sent  me  up  to  bed  without  a  bite  to  eat, 

I  woke  up  in  the  dark  an'  saw  things  standin'  in  a  row, 

A-lookin'  at  me  cross-eyed  an'  p'intin'  at  me — so! 

Oh,  my !    I  wuz  so  skeered  that  time  I  never  slep'  a  mite — 

It's  almost  alluz  when  I'm  bad  that  I  see  things  at  night! 

l^Lucky  thing  I  ain't  a  girl  or  I'd  be  skeered  to  death! 
Bein'  I'm  a  boy,  I  duck  my  head  an'  hold  my  breath; 
An'  I  am,  oh!   so  sorry  I'm  a  naughty  boy,  an'  then 
I  promise  to  be  better  an'  I  say  my  prayers  again! 
Gran'ma  tells  me  that's  the  only  way  to  make  it  right 
When  a  feller  has  been  wicked  an'  sees  things  at  night! 


I36  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

An'  so  when  other  naughty  boys  would  coax  me  into  sin, 
I  try  to  skwush  the  tempter's  voice  'at  urges  me  within; 
An'  when  they's  pie  for  supper  or  cakes  'at's  big  an'  nice 
I  want  to — but  I  do  not  pass  my  plate  f'r  them  things  twice  I 
No,  ruther  let  starvation  wipe  me  slowly  out  of  sight 
Than  I  should  keep  a-livin'  an'  seein'  things  at  night.^ 


A  Speakin'  Ghost. 


By  Sara  S.  Rice. 


[This  can  be  effectively  given  as  a  costume-recitation,  the  reciter  to  be 
dressed  as  an  old  lady,  with  cap,  spectacles,  kerchief  crossed  over  breast,  and 
knitting  in  hand.] 

Yes,  I  do  b'lieve  in  'em,  in  one  of  'em,  tennerate.  An'  I 
know  why  you  ask  me  if  I  do.  Somebody's  put  you  up  to  it, 
so's  you  can  make  me  tell  my  ghost-story. 

Well,  I  s'pose  I'll  s'prise  you  when  I  say  it  all  happened 
in  New  York  city.  I  was  born  about  here,  an'  come  of  a 
good  old  stock.  There  was  father'n  mother,  three  boys, 
Amos,  Ezry,  an'  Peleg,  an'  me,  Mary  Ann.  We  was  pretty 
well  to  do;  we  had  a  good  home;  father  was  a  good  man,  an' 
mother  was  the  best  of  women,  an'  I  was  dreffle  fond  of  the 
boys.  But  one  day  in  September  they  went  out  in  a  sail-boat, 
an'  a  storm  come  up,  an'  their  boat  capsized — an'  they  was 
brought  home  so  dreffle  still.  Mother  never  held  up  her  head 
arter  that,  an'  afore  New  Year  come  she'd  follered  pa  an' 
the  boys.  It  left  me  dreffle  lonesome.  So  when  I  had  an 
opp'tunity  to  go  to  New  York,  I.  took  it.  'Twas  Mis'  Davis, 
an'  she  writ  to  know  if  I'd  come  an'  take  care  o'  her  house 
while  she  was  away,  an'  look  arter  her  pa.  An'  'twas  right 
there  in  the  front  basement  o'  that  city  house  that  I  see  the 
ghost.  'Twa'n't  like  any  ord'nary  other  ghost  I  ever  heerd  - 
on;  'twas  a  speakin'  one.  I  don't  mean  oce  that  talks,  but 
one  that  speaks  pieces. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECLTATLONS.  1 37 

I  don't  think  I  smelt  pepp'mint  the  fust  time  it  come. 
I  was  a-sittin'  in  the  front  basement  when  it  come.  I  don't 
know  what  made  me  look  up,  but  I  done  it ;  an'  there,  standin' 
right  near  the  table,  was  the  ghost;  though's  I  said  before,  I 
didn't  know  it  for  a  ghost  then.  It  looked  like  a  boy.  Afore 
I  could  ask  him  what  he  wanted,  he  stepped  up,  an'  says, 
sort  o'  quick  and  excited-like,  "Don't  you  want  to  hear  me 
speak  my  piece?"  and  he  began, 

"My  name  is  Norvyle;  on  the  crampin'  hills 
My  father  feeds  his  flock" — 
an'  a  lot  more  about  his  folks.     When  he'd  done,  he  bowed 
real  perlite.     When  I  turned  round  he'd  gone. 

The  next  day  about  the  same  time,  I  begun  to  smell  a 
strong  kind  o'  brimstoney  smell,  an'  I  looked  up  an'  there 
stood  the  ghost,  an'  he  says  real  interested:  " Don't  you  want 
to  hear  me  speak  my  piece?"  an'  he  started  off  real  glib. 
[Pause.]  I  can't  reelect  what  he  spoke  that  time.  Bimeby  I 
went  to  the  closet  to  git  somethin'  to  show  him,  an'  when  I 
got  back  he  was  gone. 

Ev'ry  single  arternoon  arter  that,  I  begun  to  smell  a  sort 
o'  pepp'minty  smell,  an'  in  come  that  boy,  walked  up  to  me, 
an'  sort  o'  excited-like  says :  "Don't  you  want  to  hear  me  speak 
my  piece?"  Then  he'd  hold  out  his  arm  straight  an'  tell 
how  nobody  never  heerd  a  drum  nor  a  fun'ral  note  the  time 
they  buried  somebody  in  an  awful  hurry.  Again  he'd  start 
off  speechifying  about  its  being  a  real  question  arter  all 
whether  you  hadn't  better  be,  or  hadn't  better  not  be.  An' 
there  was  a  loud  one  where  he  just  insisted  that  our  chains 
is  forged.  "Their  clankin',"  he  says,  "may  be  heard  on 
the  plains  o'  Boston."  I  b'lieve  'twas  in  one  that  he  kept 
raying:  "Let  it  come;  I  repeat  it,  sir,  let  it  come.  Gentle- 
men may  cry  peace,  peace,  but  there  ain't  no  peace,"  an'  so 
on.     Real  eloquent  'twas.      An'  I  growed  proud  o'  that  boy. 

I  never's  long's  I  live  shall  forgit  the  day  I  found  out 
he  wa'n't  a  boy,  a  common,  ord'nary  boy,  but  a  ghost! 
Well,  you  can't  understand  anything  I  went  through  then; 
nobody   can't.     When   I   found   it   out,    I    was    determined 


I38  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

to  take  on  me  the  hull  religious  trainin'  of  a  ghost.  I  was 
busy  all  day  preparin'  for  it.  Our  folks  was  Congregationals, 
an'  as  my  ghost  didn't  seem  to  have  any  partikiler  leanin' 
to  any  belief,  I  meant  to  bring  him  up  as  I'd  been  brought; 
so  for  quite  a  spell  arter  the  pepp'mint  scent  come  into  the 
room  I  wouldn't  turn  my  head.  He  stopped  and  said  so 
mournful,  "Don't  you  want  to  hear  me  speak  my  piece?" 
I  said,  "Yes,  deary."  He  begun  in  a  shaky  voice: 
"  Here  rests  his  head  upon  the  lap  of  earth, 
A  youth  to  fortin'  an'  to  fame  unknown." 

Then  I  begun  my  religious  teaching.  My  startin'  pint  was 
the  fall.  But  o'  course  I  had  to  allude  to  Adam  an'  Eve,  an' 
all  that.  Then  I  learnt  him  verses  out  of  the  New  England 
Primer,  and  then  the  tears  come  agin,  an'  I  turned  away 
to  sop  'em  up.  When  I  looked  around,  he  was  gone.  I  was 
a  mite  nervous  next  time.  But  I  needn't  a  worried,  for  I 
hadn't  hardly  time  to  answer  that  same  old  question,  "Don't 
you  want  to  hear  me  speak  my  piece? "  afore  he  started  off: 

"Oh,  what  a  fall  was  there  my  countrymen! 
When  me  an'  you  an'  all  on  us  fell  down." 
The  real  catechism  doctrine  you  see,  "all  mankind  by  the 
fall,"  an'  so  on. 

So  it  went  on  day  arter  day,  I  didn't  allers  keep  to  the 
doctrines.  Seein'  he  was  so  fond  o'  pieces,  I  learnt  him 
pretty  verses  out  of  the  Primer,  like: 

"  Vashti  for  pride 
Was  set  aside," 

"Elijah  hid 
By  ravens  fed." 
He  was  so  tickled  with  that  piece  about 
"  Good  children  must 
Fear  God  all  day, 
Parents  obey 
No  false  thing  say," 
An'  so  on. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  l^ 

But  the  days  was  slippin'  by,  an'  I  begun  to  worry. 
'Twas  gittin  past  the  middle  o'  December  now.  Then  I 
remembered  Christmas  was  comin'  on.  So  one  day  arter 
my  boy  had  left,  I  begun  to  think  why  I  couldn't  make  a 
Christmas  for  him.  I  was  jest  hungry  for  a  stockin'  to  fill. 
The  next  time  he  come  I  led  up  to  the  subject  an'  found 
out  that  he'd  never  heerd  o'  Christmas  or  Santy  Claus  in 
all  his  life.  So  I  told  him  about  it  an'  he  was  so  interested. 
The  stockin'  was  easy  enough,  for  I  had  one  of  Peleg's. 
Then  I  wanted  a  partikiler  specie  o'  apple,  big  an'  red.  They 
calls  'em  Boardman  reds.  The  hick'ry  nuts  I  got  easy  enough 
and  the  maple  sugar.  I  was  goin'  to  get  .some  pepp'mint 
lozenges,  but  I  thought  that  was  too  personal.  I  got  a  big 
stick  o'  ball  lick'rish,  an'  some  B 'gundy  gum.  Then  o' 
course  there  must  be  a  jack-knife.  I  set  up  late  o'  nights  an' 
riz  early  o'  mornin's  to  knit  a  pair  o'  red  yarn  mittens,  an'  I 
wound  a  yarn  ball,  an'  covered  it  with  leather.  I  had  a 
diff'cult  time  findin'  fish-hooks  an'  sinkers.  Right  on  top 
I  was  goin'  to  put  Peleg's  leather-covered  Bible.  Every 
day  I  talked  Christmas  to  him,  tellin'  about  the  diff'rent 
Christmases  I'd  knowed. 

The  last  night  but  one  come — the  23rd.  Ev'ry  time  I  spoke 
o'  father's  houses  or  families  goin'  home  for  Christmas,  I 
see  he  looked  kind  o'  sorry.  That  arternoon  when  he  asked 
in  a  shaky,  still  voice,  "  Don't  you  want  to  hear  me  speak  my 
piece?"  he  follered  up  with  the  dear  old  hymn, 

"  Airth  has  engrossed  my  love  too  long, 
'Tis  time  to  lift  my  eyes." 

He  went  on  with  all  the  verses,  an'  when  he  come  to 

"O  let  me  mount  to  join  their  song," 

I  was  all  goose  flesh,  an'  so  choky. 

All  the  next  day  I  went  about  my  work  very  softly.  I'd 
filled  the  stockin',  an'  there  it  laid  in  my  room,  never  to  be 
hung  up,  all  bulgy,  onreg'lar  an'  knobbv.  I  knew  what 
ev'ry  bulge  meant.     That  one  by  the  ankle  was  the  jack- 


I4O  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  31. 

knife,  and  that  queer  place  by  the  knee  was  the  stick  o' 
lick'rish  got  crosswise.  I  didn't  empty  it.  Folks  will  keep 
sech  things,  you  know,  an'  it's  up  in  my  bedroom  now. 

Well,  Christmas  eve  come  too  quick  for  me  that  time.  So 
when  my  boy  come  in,  I  begun  fust,  the  fust  time  since  I 
knowed  him. 

"  Norvyle,"  I  says,  "  I've  had  a  real  nice  visit  with  you,  an* 
I  wish  I  could  ask  you  to  stay  longer.  But  it's  Christmas 
Eve,  an'  people  orter  be  with  their  folks  to-night.  You 
know  where  your  folks  is,  leastways  your  father  an'  elder 
brother.  So  I'm  dreffle  sorry  to  seem  imperlite,  but  I  really 
think  the  best  thing  for  you  to  do — is — to  go- — home!"  I 
got  it  out  somehow. 

Norvyle  looked  right  at  me,  kind  o'  mournful,  an'  's  I 
live,  that  boy  opened  his  mouth  an'  begun  to  sing.  An' 
oh!  what  do  you  s'pose  he  sung?  "Home,  sweet  home!" 
He'd  never  sung  before,  but  his  voice  was  like  a  wood-robin's, 
an'  when  it  stopped — why,  he  stopped.  He  didn't  go,  he 
jest  wasn't  there. 

Well,  I've  got  along  somehow.  I'm  an  old  woman  now. 
I'm  failin'  lately  pretty  fast,  an'  it  makes  me  think  o'  goin' 
home  to  join  pa  'n'  ma  'n'  the  boys.  When  I  says  boys,  I 
mean  four  on  'em,  for  besides  my  three,  I'm  cert'n  there's 
goin'  to  be  another  one,  a  little  chap,  with  rough  reddish-yeller 
hair,  an'  lots  o'  freckles.  Course,  I  know  it's  all  diff'rent  up 
there,  an'  things  ain't  a  speck  like  what  they  be  here;  but 
somehow  it  won't  seem  exackly  nat'ral  if  that  little  feller 
don't  somewheres  in  the  course  o'  conva'sation  bring  in  that 
fav'rit  remark  o'  his'n,  "Don't  you  want  to  hear  me  speak 
my  piece?" 


HALLOWE'EN  RECLTATIONS.  I4I 

De   Wood   Hants. 


By  Anne  Virginia  Culbertson. 


[By  permission  of  the  Author.] 

When  de  moon  scrouch  down  behine  de  hill, 
An'  de  dark  fole  roun'  you,  clost  an  still, 

Keep  outer  de  wood, 

Ef  you  knows  whut's  good; 
Fer  deys  tings  in  dyah  dat  nuvver  show 
'Tel  de  dark  come  on  an'  de  daylight  go; 
An'  dey  races  an'  runs,  an'  dey  flaars  an'  fla'nts, 
An'  de  namer  dem  creeters  is  Hants,  chile,  Hants! 

When  de  squinch-owl's  hootin'  roun'  de  place, 
An'  de  bats  fly  low,  an'  slap  yo'  face, 

Keep  outer  de  wood, 

Ef  you  knows  whut's  good: 
Fer  de  li'l  wa'm  gus'es  thu  de  trees, 
An'  de  li'l  cole  ones  what  mek  you  freeze, 
Is  de  bref  o'  dem  creeturs  what  flaars  an'  fla'nts, 
An'  de  name  dat  we  calls  'em  is  Hants,  chile,  Hants! 

When  you  see  lights  trab'lin'  up  an'  down, 
Widout  no  pusson  to  cyar'  dem  roun', 

Keep  outer  de  wood, 

Ef  you  knows  whut's  good. 
Foller  dem  tings  an'  dey  'stroy  you,  sho'; 
You  earn'  kotch  up,  an'  you  go  an'  go, 
An'  las'  dey  swamps  you,  an'  flaars  an'  fla'nts, 
Fer  dey's  jacky-my-lantums,  dey's  Hants,  chile,  Hants! 

When  biggity  chillun,  'long  to'des  night, 
Gits  cross  an'  norty,  an'  doan  do  right, 

Dey  bettah  be  good, 

An'  membah  de  wood; 


I  A2  WEEAEA'S   READINGS  No.  31. 

Fer  deys  tings  in  dyah  dat  nuvver  show 

Tel  dc  dark  come  on  an'  de  daylight  go; 

An'  dey  races  an'  runs,  an'  dey  flaars  an'  fla'nts, 

An'  dey  hone  fer  bad  chilluns,  dey  does,  dem  Hants! 


When   De  Folks  is  Gone. 


By  James  Whitcomb  Riley. 


[By  permission  of  the  Author.] 

What  dat  scratchin'  at  de  kitchin  do'? 

Done  heah'n  dat  foh  an  hour  er  mo'! 

Tell  you,  Mr.  Niggah,  das  sho's  yo'  bo'n, 

Hit's  might  lonesome  waitin'  when  de  folks  is  gone! 

Blame  my  trap!    how  de  wind  do  blow! 

An'  dis  is  das  de  night  for  de  witches,  sho! 

Dey's  trouble  goin'  to  waste  when  de  ole  slut  whine, 

An'  you  heah  de  cat  a-spittin'  when  de  moon  don't  shine! 

Chune  my  fiddle,  an'  de  bridge  go  "bang!  " 
An'  I  lef '  er  right  whah  she  alius  hang. 
An'  de  tribble  snap  short  an'  de  apern  split 
When  dey  no  mortal  man  wah  a-techin'  hit! 

Dah!   Now  what?    How  de  ole  j'ice  cracks! 
'Spec'  dis  house,  ef  hit  tell  plain  fac's, 
'Ud  talk  about  de  ha'nts  wid  dey  long  tails  on 
What  dasn't  on'y  come  when  de  folks  is  gone! 

What  I  tuk  an'  done  ef  a  sho-nuff  ghos' 
Pop  right  up  by  de  ole  bed-pos'? 
What  dat  shinin'  fru  de  front  do'  crack? 
God  bress  de  Lo'd!  hits  de  folks  got  back! 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  1 43 


Hall 


owe  en. 


By  Madison  Cawein. 


It  was  down  in  the  woodland  on  last  Hallowe'en 
Where  silence  and  darkness  had  built  them  a  lair, 

That  I  felt  the  dim  presence  of  her,  the  unseen, 
And  heard  her  still  step  on  the  ghost-haunted  air. 

It  was  last  Hallowe'en  in  the  glimmer  and  swoon 

Of  mist  and  of  moonlight  that  thickened  and  thinned 

That  I  saw  the  gray  gleam  of  her  eyes  in  the  moon, 
And  hair,  like  a  raven,  blown  wild  in  the  wind. 

It  was  last  Hallowe'en  where  starlight  and  dew 
Made  mystical  marriage  on  flower  and  leaf, 

That  she  led  me  with  looks  of  a  love  that  I  knew, 
And  lured  with  the  voice  of  a  heart -buried  grief. 

It  was  last  Hallowe'en  in  the  forest  of  dreams, 
Where  trees  are  eidolons  and  shadows  have  eyes, 

That  I  saw  her  pale  face  like  the  foam  of  far  streams, 
And  heard  like  the  leaf -lisp,  her  tears  and  her  sighs. 

It  was  last  Hallowe'en,  the  haunted,  the  dread, 

In  the  wind-tattered  wood  by  the  storm-twisted  pine, 

That  I,  who  am  living,  kept  tryst  with  the  dead, 

And  clasped  her  a  moment  and  dreamed  she  was  mine. 


Hall 


owe  en. 


Oh,  dem  wuz  happy  Hallere'ens  we  had  in  ole  Virginny, 
W'en  me  an'  Chloe  wuz  co'htin'  long  ago; 

W'en  ebery  one  emong  us  toe  de  smallest  pickaninny 
Would  huddle  in  de  chimbley  cohnah's  glow 

Toe  listen  toe  dem  chilly  win's  ob  ole  Novembah's 


144  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

Go  a-screechin'  laik  a  spook  aroun'  de  huts, 
'Twell  de  pickaninnies'  fingahs  gits  to  shakin'  o'er  de  embahs 

An'  dey  laik  ter  roas'  dey  knuckles  'stead  o'  nuts. 
An'  once  w'en  Chloe  cum  skittin'  frough  de  do'-way  ob  de 
shanty, 

Her  face  ez  white  ez  any  sheet — a'most, 
She  done  skeered  all  dem  niggahs  inter  feelin'  mighty  ha'nty 

Bah  'lowin'  dat  she  bin  kissed  bah  a  ghost! 
'Twell  m'dnight  by  de  fiah  all  dem  coward  niggahs  tarried, 

Expectin'  ebery  minute  sumfin  orful  fo'  ter  see; 
But   Chloe  she  nebah   'spicioned   'twell  long  arter  we  wuz 
married 

Dat  de  niggah  spook  w'at  kissed  'er  den  wuz  me! 


Omens. 


By  Frank  L.  Stanton. 


I  hopes  de  Lawd'll  help  me — I  hopes  de  Lawd'll  save, 
Kase  I  feels  de  graveya'd  rabbit  des  a-runnin'  'cross  my  grave; 
De  new  moon  shinin'  on  him  des  ez  ghostly  ez  kin  be, 
En  I  feels  him— Oh,  I  feels  him,  des  a-scratchin'  over  me! 

Good  Lawd  help  me — 

Stretch  yo'  han'  en  save; 
Kase  de  graveya'd  rabbit 

Is  a-runnin'  'cross  my  grave! 

I  kin  tell  it  by  de  creepy  kind  er  feelin'  dat  I  got, 
Dat  he  foun'  my  grave  out  yander  in  de  cemetery  lot! 
En  I  sees  de  new  moon  shinin'  des  ez  skeery  ez  kin  be, 
En  I  feels  him — Oh,  I  feels  him  des  a-scratchin'  over  me! 
Good  Lawd  lissen — 

Hear  my  pra'r  en  save ; 
Kase  de  graveya'd  rabbit 

Is  a-runnin'  'cross  my  grave! 


HALLOWEEN  RECITATIONS.  145 


Hall 


owe  en. 


By  L,  Fidelia  Woolley  Gillette. 


To-night — 'tis  said  the  dead  come  back  to-night — 

They  who  once  made  our  earth  so  bright, 

Who  filled  life's  morning  with  a  golden  glow 

That  all  its  darkness  did  o'erflow — 

To-night,  to-night,  they  cross  the  dark-flowing  tide 

That  doth  our  land  from  their  fair  land  divide. 

And  her  dark  eyes,  so  soft  and  large  and  deep — 
Eyes  that  God  meant  should  never  weep — ■ 
Looked  all  the  richness  of  her  heart  to  mine, 
Till  round  me  heaven's  light  did  shine, 
And  we  at  last  had  found  the  gift  divine 
That  turns  life's  bitter  draughts  to  richest  wine. 

The  moonlight  glimmers  o'er  my  study  walls, 
Silence  within  the  wide,  old  halls' 
Holds  watch,  shrouded  in  sombre  black; 
And  all  the  past  comes  flooding  back 
Upon  my  heart,  with  waves  of  incense  sweet 
And  so  I  watch  the  coming  of  her  feet 

Across  the  prairie  grasses  and  upon  the  stair— 

The  flowing  of  her  raven  hair ; 

The  baby  dimple  in  her  rounded  chin 

That  love,  sweet  love,  was  cradled  in. 

With  her  tender  voice  and  her  face  of  light — 

Will  she  come?     Oh,  God!   may  she  come  to-night! 

And  will  she  know  me  ?   Ah !   the  cruel  years 

Have  beat  my  heart  with  rain  of  tears 

Since  she  went  out  to  mysteries  unknown; 

The  glory  of  my  youth  hath  flown 

Beneath  the  heavy  bruises  and  the  wild,  sharp  pain 

Oh !  will  she  know  me  if  she  comes  again  ? 


146  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

Ah,  will  she  see  the  heart  that  loves  her  so? 

And  will  she  say,  "I  know — I  know, 

My  dear,  the  lone  dark  way  your  feet  have  trod; 

I  tell  it  every  day  to  God, 

And  he  has  sent  me  with  the  olden  peace, 

That  your  forebodings  and  your  pain  should  cease.'* 

Aye,  she  could  not  forget;   and  she  could  be 

But  wise  and  tender  unto  me ; 

And  she  would  brighten  all  this  lonely  woe 

With  her  sweet  smiles  of  long  ago. 

I  watch  and  pray.       The  path  of  stars  is  bright. 

Will  she  come?   Oh,  God!   may  she  come  to-night! 


Hall 


owe  en. 


By  Carrie  Stern. 


The  glowing  coals  within  the  grate 
With  pictured  tales  foreshadowed  fate; 
For  she  who  watched  with  tender  eyes 
The  glowing  phantoms  fall  and  rise 
Within  her  breast  the  wizard  bore, 
To  whom  alone  such  fairy  lore 
Will  yield  its  tale  of  coming  days. 
The  elfin  light  about  her  plays 
With  waving  lines  in  shining  maize; 
With  danqe  fantastic  weaves  a  charm 
To  blind  her  eyes  to  shades  of  harm. 
Her  hand  her  rounded  chin  supports, 
The  flickering  gleams  her  soft  hair  courts; 
And  bright  curls  vagrant  from  their  place 
Throw  flitting  shadows  on  her  face ; 
But  light  sinks  deep  in  her  sweet  eyes, 
Where  happy  love  a-dreaming  lies. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATLONS.  147 

The  Elf-Child. 


By  James  Whitcomb  Riley. 


Little  orphant  Annie's  come  to  our  house  to  stay, 

An'  wash  the  cups  an'  saucers  up,  an'  brush  the  crumbs  away, 

An'  shoo  the  chickens  off  the  porch,  an'  dust  the  hearth  an' 

sweep, 
An'  make  the  fire,  an'  bake  the  bread,  an'  earn  her  board  an' 

keep; 
An'  all  us  other  children,  when  the  supper  things  is  done, 
We  sets  around  the  kitchen  fire  an'  has  the  mostest  fun 
A-list'nin'  to  the  witch  tales  'at  Annie  tells  about, 
An'  the  gobble-uns  'at  gits  you 
Ef  you 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 

Onct  they  was  a  little  boy  wouldn't  say  his  pray'rs — 

An'  when  he  went  to  bed  at  night,  away  up-stairs, 

His  mamma  heerd  him  holler,  an'  his  daddy  heerd  him  bawl, 

An'  when  they  turn't  the  kivvers  down  he  wasn't  there  at  all! 

An'  they  seeked  him  in  the  rafter-room,  an'  cubby-hole  an' 

press, 
An'  seeked  him  up  the  chimbly-flue,  an'  everywheres,  I  guess 
But  all  they  ever  found  was  thist  his  pants  an'  roundabout! 
An'  the  gobble-uns'  11  git  you 
Ef  you 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 

An'  one  time  a  little  girl  'ud  alius  laugh  an'  grin, 
An'  make  fun  of  ever'  one  an'  all  her  blood-an-kin, 


I48  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  31. 

An'  onct  when  they  was  "company,"  an'  ole  folks  was  there, 
She  mocked  'em  an'  shocked  'em  an'  said  she  didn't  care! 
An'  thist  as  she  kicked  her  heels,  an'  turn't  to  run  an'  hide, 
They  was  two  great,  big,  Black  Things  a-standin'  by  her  side, 
An'  they  snatched  her  through  the  ceilin'  'fore  she  knowed 

what  she's  about! 
An'  the  gobble-uns  '11  git  you 
Ef  you 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 

An'  little  orphant  Annie  says  when  the  blaze  is  blue, 
An'  the  lamp  wick  sputters,  an'  the  wind  goes  woo-00! 
An'  you  hear  the  crickets  quit,  an'  the  moon  is  gray, 
An'  the  lightnin'  bugs  in  dew  is  all  squenched  away — 
You  better  mind  yer  parents,  an'  yer  teachers  fond  an'  dear, 
An'  cherish  them  'at  loves  you,  an'  dry  the  orphant's  tear, 
An'  he'p  the  po'  an'  needy  ones  'at  clusters  all  about, 
Er  the  gobble-uns'  11  git  you 
Ef  you 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 


The  Enchanted   Shirt. 


By  John  Hay. 

The  king  was  sick.     His  cheek  was  red, 

And  his  eye  was  clear  and  bright ; 
He  ate  and  drank  with  a  kingly  zest, 

And  peacefully  snored  at  night. 

But  he  said  he  was  sick — and  a  king  should  know; 

And  doctors  came  by  the  score — 
They  did  not  cure  him.     He  cut  off  their  heads 

And  sent  to  the  schools  for  more. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATLONS.  149 

At  last  two  famous  doctors  came, 

And  one  was  poor  as  a  rat ; 
He  had  passed  his  life  in  studious  toils 

And  never  found  time  to  grow  fat. 

The  other  had  never  looked  in  a  book; 

His  patients  gave  him  no  trouble; 
If  they  recovered  they  paid  him  well, 

If  they  died  their  heirs  paid  double. 

Together  they  looked  at  the  royal  tongue 

As  the  king  on  his  couch  reclined ; 
In  succession  they  thumped  his  august  chest, 

But  no  trace  of  disease  could  find. 

The  old  sage  said,  "You're  as  sound  as  a  nut," 
' '  Hang  him  up ! "  roared  the  king,  in  a  gale — 

In  a  ten-knot  gale  of  royal  rage; 

The  other  leech  grew  a  shadow  pale; 

But  he  pensively  rubbed  his  sagacious  nose, 

And  thus  his  prescription  ran : 
"The  king  will  be  well  if  he  sleeps  one  night 

In  the  shirt  of  a  Happy  Man." 

Wide  o'er  the  realm  the  couriers  rode, 

And  fast  their  horses  ran, 
And  many  they  saw,  and  to  many  they  spake, 

But  they  found  no  Happy  Man. 

They  found  poor  men  who  would  fain  be  rich, 

And  rich  who  thought  they  were  poor; 
And  men  who  twisted  their  waists  in  stays, 

And  women  that  short  hose  wore. 

They  saw  two  men  by  the  roadside  sit, 

And  both  bemoaned  their  lot ; 
For  one  had  buried  his  wife,  he  said, 

And  the  other  one  had  not. 


15°  WERNER'S  READINGS   No.  SI. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  village  gate; 

A  beggar  lay  whistling  there ; 
He  whistled  and  sang  and  laughed,  and  rolled 

On  the  grass  in  the  soft  June  air. 

The  weary  couriers  paused  and  looked 
At  the  scamp  so.  blithe  and  gay,      , 

And  one  of  them  said,  "Heaven  save  you,  friend, 
You  seem  to  be  happy  to-day." 

"Oh,  yes,  fair  sirs,"  the  rascal  laughed, 

And  his  voice  rang  free  and  glad; 
"An  idle  man  has  so  much  to  do 

That  he  never  has  time  to  be  sad." 

"This  is  our  man,"  the  courier  said, 

' '  Our  luck  has  led  us  aright ; 
I  will  give  you  a  hundred  ducats,  friend, 

For  the  loan  of  your  shirt  to-night." 

The  merry  blackguard  lay  back  on  the  grass 
And  laughed  till  his  face  was  black; 

"I  would  do  it,  God  wot,"  and  he  roared  with  fun, 
" But  I  haven't  a  shirt  to  my  back." 

Each  day  to  the  king  the  reports  came  in 

Of  his  unsuccessful  spies, 
And  the  sad  panorama  of  human  woes 

Passed  daily  under  his  eyes. 

And  he  grew  ashamed  of  his  useless  life 
And  his  maladies  hatched  in  gloom; 

He  opened  the  windows  and  let  in  the  air 
Of  the  free  heaven  into  his  room. 

And  out  he  went  m  the  world  and  toiled 

In  his  own  appointed  way; 
And  the  people  blessed  him,  the  land  was  glad, 

And  the  king  was  well  and  gay. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  151 

Uncle   Dan'l's   Apparition. 


By  Mark  Twain  and  Charles  Dudley  Warner. 


Whatever  the  lagging,  dragging  journey  from  Tennessee 
to  Missouri  may  have  been  to  the  rest  of  the  emigrants,  it 
was  a  wonder  and  delight  to  the  children,  a  world  of  enchant- 
ment ;  and  they  believed  it  to  be  peopled  with  the  mysterious 
dwarfs  and  giants  and  goblins  that  figured  in  the  tales  the 
negro  slaves  were  in  the  habit  of  telling  them  nightly  by  the 
shuddering  light  of  the  kitchen  fire. 

At  the  end  of  nearly  a  week  of  travel,  the  party  went  into 
camp  near  a  shabby  village  which  was  caving,  house  by 
house,  into  the  hungry  Mississippi.  The  river  astonished 
the  children  beyond  measure.  Its  mile-breadth  of  water 
seemed  an  ocean  to  them,  in  the  shadowy  twilight,  and  the 
vague  riband  of  trees  on  the  further  shore,  the  verge  of  a 
continent  which  surely  none  but  them  had  ever  seen  before. 

"Uncle  Dan'l  "  (colored),  aged  40;  his  wife,  "Aunt  Jinny," 
aged  30;  "Young  Miss"  Emily  Hawkins,  "Young  Mars" 
Washington  Hawkins,  and  "Young  Mars"  Clay,  the  new 
member  of  the  family,  ranged  themselves  on  a  log,  after  sup- 
per, and  contemplated  the  marvelous  river  and  discussed  it. 
The  moon  rose  and  sailed  aloft  through  a  maize  of  shredded 
cloud-wreaths;  the  somber  river  just  perceptibly  brightened 
under  the  veiled  light;  a  deep  silence  pervaded  the  air,  and 
was  emphasized,  at  intervals,  rather  than  broken,  by  the  hoot- 
ing of  an  owl  the  baying  of  a  dog,  or  the  muffled  crash  of 
a  caving  bank  in  the  distance. 

The  little  company  assembled  on  the  log  were  all  children 
(at  least  in  simplicity  and  broad  and  comprehensive  igno- 
rance), and  the  remarks  they  made  about  the  river  were  in 
keeping  with  their  character;  and  so  awed  were  they  by  the 
grandeur  and  the  solemnity  of  the  scene  before  them,  and  by 
their  belief  that  the  air  was  filled  with  invisible  spirits,  and 
that  the  faint  zephyrs  were  caused  by  their  passing  wings, 


152  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  81. 

that  all  their  talk  took  to  itself  a  tinge  of  the  supernatural, 
and  their  voices  were  subdued  to  a  low  and  reverent  tone. 
Suddenly  Uncle  Dan'l  exclaimed: 

"Chil'en,  dah's  sumfin  a-comin'!" 

All  crowded  close  together,  and  every  heart  beat  faster. 
Uncle  Dan'l  pointed  down  the  river  with  his  bony  finger. 

A  deep  coughing  sound  troubled  the  stillness,  away  toward 
a  wooded  cape  that  jutted  into  the  stream  a  mile  distant. 
All  in  an  instant  a  fierce  eye  of  fire  shot  out  from  behind  the 
cape,  and  sent  a  long,  brilliant  pathway  quivering  athwart  the 
dusky  water.  The  coughing  grew  louder  and  louder,  the  glar- 
ing eye  grew  larger  and  still  larger,  glared  wilder  and  still 
wilder.  A  huge  shape  developed  itself  out  of  the  gloom  and 
from  its  tall  duplicate  horns  dense  volumes  of  smoke,  starred 
and  spangled  with  sparks,  poured  out  and  went  tumbling 
away  into  the  further  darkness.  Nearer  and  nearer  the  thing 
came,  till  its  long  sides  began  to  glow  with  spots  of  light 
which  mirrored  themselves  in  the  river,  and  attended  the 
monster  like  a  torchlight  procession. 

"What  is  it?     O!   what  is  it,  Uncle  Dan'l?" 

With  deep  solemnity  the  answer  came : 

"It's  de  Almighty!     Git  down  on  yo'  knees!" 

It  was  not  necessary  to  say  it  twice.  They  were  all  kneek 
ing  in  a  moment.  And  then,  while  the  mysterious  coughing 
rose  stronger  and  stronger,  and  the  threatening  glare  reached 
further  and  wider,  the  negro's  voice  lifted  up  its  supplica- 
tions : 

"0  Lord,  we's  been  mighty  wicked,  an'  we  knows  dat  we 
'zerve  to  go  to  de  bad  place,  but  good  Lord,  deah  Lord,  we 
ain't  ready  yit,  we  ain't  ready — let  dese  po'  chil'en  hab  one 
mo'  chance,  jes'  one  mo'  chance.  Take  de  ole  niggah  if  you's 
got  to  hab  somebody.  Good  Lord,  good  deah  Lord,  we  don't 
know  whah  you's  a-gwine  to,  we  don't  know  who  you's  got 
yo'  eye  on,  but  we  knows  by  de  way  you's  a-comin',  we  knows 
by  de  way  you's  a-tiltin'  along  in  yo'  charyot  o'  hah,  dat  some 
po'  sinner's  a-gwine  to  ketch  it.  But,  good  Lord,  dese  chil'en 
don't  'blong  heah,  dey's  f'm  Obedstown,  whah  dey  don't  know 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATLONS.  1 53 

nuffin,  an'  you  knows  yo'  own  sef,  dat  dey  ain't  'sponsible. 
An',  deah  Lord,  good  Lord,  it  ain't  like  yo'  mercy,  it  ain't 
like  yo'  pity,  it  ain't  like  yo'  long-sufferin'  lovin'  kindness, 
for  to  take  dis  kind  o'  'vantage  o'  sich  little  chil'en  as  dese  is, 
when  dey's  so  many  grown  folks  chuck  full  o'  cussedness  dat 
wants  roastin'  down  dah.  0  Lord,  spah  de  little  chil'en, 
don't  tar  de  little  chil'en  away  f'm  dey  frens,  jes'  let  'em  off, 
jes'  dis  once,  and  take  it  out'n  de  ole  niggah.  Heah  I  is, 
Lord,  heah  I  is!     De  ole  niggah's  ready,  Lord,  de  ole — " 

The  naming  and  churning  steamer  was  right  abreast  the 
party,  and  not  twenty  steps  away.  The  awful  thunder  of  a 
mud-valve  suddenly  burst  forth,  drowning  the  prayer,  and  as 
suddenly  Uncle  Dan'l  snatched  a  child  under  each  arm  and 
scoured  into  the  woods  with  the  rest  of  the  pack  at  his  heels. 
And  then,  ashamed  of  himself,  he  halted  in  the  deep  darkness 
and  shouted  (but  rather  feebly) : 

"Heah  I  is,  Lord,  heah  I  is!" 

There  was  a  moment  of  throbbing  suspense,  and  then,  to 
the  surprise  and  comfort  of  the  party,  it  was  plain  that  the 
august  presence  had  gone  by,  for  its  dreadful  noises  were 
receding.  Uncle  Dan'l  headed  a  cautious  reconnoissance  in 
the  direction  of  the  log.  Sure  enough  "The  Lord"  was  just 
turning  a  point  a  short  distance  up  the  river;  and,  while  they 
looked,  the  lights  winked  out,  and  the  coughing  diminished  by 
degrees,  and  presently  ceased  altogether. 

"H'wsh!  Well,  now  dey's  some  folks  says  dey  ain't  no 
'ficiency  in  prah.  Dis  chile  would  like  to  know  whah  we'd  a 
ben  now  if  it  warn't  fo'  dat  prah?     Dat's  it.     Dat's  it!" 

"Uncle  Dan'l,  do  you  reckon  it  was  the  prayer  that  saved 
us?"  said  Clay. 

"Does  I  reckon?  Don't  I  know  it!  Whah  was  yo'  eyes? 
Warn't  de  Lord  jes'  a-comin'  chow!  chow\  chow!  an'  a-goin' 
on  tumble;  an'  do  de  Lord  carry  on  dat  way  'dout  dey's 
sumfin  don't  suit  him?  An'  warn't  he  a-lookin'  right  at  dis 
gang  heah,  an'  warn't  he  jes'  a-reachin'  for  'em?  An'  d'  you 
spec'  he  gwine  to  let  'em  off  'dout  somebody  ast  him  to  do  it? 
No,  indeedv'" 


154  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  SI. 

"Do  you  reckon  he  saw  us,  CJncle  Dan'l?" 

"De  law  sakes,  chile,  didn't  I  see  him  a-lookin'  at  us?" 

"Did  you  feel  scared,  Uncle  Dan'l?" 

"No,  sah!  When  a  man  is  'gaged  in  prah,  he  ain't  'fraid 
o'  nuffin — -dey  can't  nuffin  tech  him." 

"Well,  what  did  you  run  for?" 

"Well,  I — I — Mars  Clay,  when  a  man  is  under  de  influence 
ob  de  sperit,  he  dunno  what  he's  'bout — no,  sah;  dat  man 
dunno  what  he's  'bout.  You  mout  take  an'  tah  de  head 
off'n  dat  man,  an'  he  wouldn't  scasely  fine  it  out.  Dah's  de 
Hebrew  chil'en  dat  went  frough  de  fiah;  dey  was  burnt  con- 
sidable — ob  course  dey  was;  but  dey  didn't  know  nuffin  'bout 
it— heal  right  up  agin:  if  dey'd  ben  gals  dey'd  missed  dey 
long  haah,  maybe,  but  dey  wouldn't  felt  de  burn." 

"I  don't  know  but  what  they  were  girls.  I  think  they 
were."  > 

"Now,  Mars  Clay,  you  knows  better'n  dat.  Sometimes 
a  body  can't  tell  whedder  you's  a-sayin'  what  you  means  or 
whedder  you's  a-sayin'  what  you  don't  mean,  'case  you  says 
'em  bofe  de  same  way." 

"  But  how  should  /  know  whether  they  were  boys  or  girls  ? " 

"Goodness  sakes,  Mars  Clay,  don't  de  good  book  say? 
'Sides,  don't  it  call  'em  de  He^hrew  chil'en?  If  dey  was  gals 
wouldn't  dey  be  de  she-brew  chil'en?  Some  people  dat  kin 
read  don't  'pear  to  take  no  notice  when  dey  do  read." 

"Well,  Uncle  Dan'l,  I  think  that^—My!  here  comes  another 
one  up  the  river!     There  can't  be  two!" 

"We  gone  dis  time— we  done  gone  dis  time,  sho'!  Dey 
ain't  two,  Mars  Clay — dat's  de  same  one.  De  Lord-  kin 
'pear  eberywhah  in  a  second.  Goodness,  how  de  fiah  an'  de 
smoke  do  belch  up!  Dat  mean  business,  honey.  He  comin' 
now  like  he  fo'got  sumfim  Come  'long,  chil'en;  time  you's 
gwine  to  roos'.  Go  'long  wid  you — ole  Uncle  Dan'l  gwine 
out  in  de  woods  to  rattle  in  prah — de  ole  niggah  gwine  to  do 
what  he  kin  to  sabe  you  agin."  •  ; 

He  did  go  to  the  woods  and  pray ;  but  he  went  so  far  that  he 
doubted,  himself,  if  the  "Lord"  heard  him  when  he  went  by. 


HALLOWE'EN  REC11 AT  IONS.  J  55 

Hallowe'en  Cheer. 


When  the  apples  are  all  gathered, 

And  the  chestnut  trees  are  bare; 
When  there's  frost  upon  the  garden, 

And  a  chillness  in  the  air, 
While  a  breath  of  early  winter 

Finds  the  meadows  brown  and  sere, 
Comes  the  welcome  time  for  keeping 

Glad  the  Halloweven  cheer. 

I  recall  when  I,  a  laddie, 

With  a  band  of  comrades  bold, 
Played  such  pranks  as  older  people 

Little  less  than  crime  would  hold. 
Gates  there  were  that  wanted  owners, 

Signboards  scattered  far  and  hear, 
After  we  had  kept  at  midnight 

Thus  the  Halloweven  cheer. 

'Twas  an  autumn  night  and  cloudless, 

With  a  full  moon  in  the  sky, 
That  I  won  love's  precious  promise 

From  my  sweetheart,  fair  and  shy. 
She  had  heard  the  mystic  wisdom 

Of  the  waters  of  the  meer; 
There  she  sought  her  lover's  picture 

'Mid  the  Halloweven  cheer. 

Seeing  her  I  quickly  hastened 

From  the  shadow  of  the  wood 
And,  r: fleeted  in  the  water, 

She  beheld  me  where  I  stood. 
Then  I  told  the  olden  story 

In  love's  language,  low  and  clear; 
Asked  the  hand  the  fates  had  pledged  me 

'Mid  the  Halloweven  cheer. 


I  56  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

We  were  married  when  the  holly 

Bloomed  the  Christmas  greens  among; 

Still  love's  tokens  are  as  precious 
As  they  were  when  we  were  young. 

Once  again  we  walk  together 
Down  the  path  to  memory  dear, 

And  I  kiss  her  by  the  lakeside 

■    'Mid  the  Halloweven  cheer. 


The  Ghosts. 


By  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow. 


[From  "  Hiawatha."] 
Never  stoops  the  soaring  vulture 
On  his  quarry  in  the  desert, 
On  the  sick  or  wounded  bison, 
But  another  vulture,  watching 
From  his  high  aerial  look-out, 
Sees  the  downward  plunge  and  follows; 
And  a  third  pursues  the  second, 
Coming  from  the  invisible  ether, 
First  a  speck,  and  then  a  vulture, 
Till  the  air  is  dark  with  pinions. 

So  disasters  come  not  singly; 
But  as  if  they  watched  and  waited, 
Scanning  one  another's  motions; 
"When  the  first  descends,  the  others 
Follow,  follow,  gat  hering  flock-wise 
Round  their  victim,  sick  and  wounded, 
First  a  shadow,  then  a  sorrow, 
Till  the  air  is  dark  with  anguish. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATLONS.  1 57 

Now,  o'er  all  the  dreary  Northland, 

Mighty  Peboan,  the  Winter, 

Breathing  on  the  lakes  and  rivers, 

Into  stone  had  changed  their  waters. 

From  his  hair  he  shook  the  snow-flake 

Till  the  plains  were  strewn  with  whiteness, 

One  uninterrupted  level. 

As  if,  stooping,  the  Creator 

With  His  hand  had  smoothed  them  over. 

One  dark  evening,  after  sundown, 

In  her  wigwam  Laughing  Water 

Sat  with  old  Nokomis,  waiting 

For  the  steps  of  Hiawatha 

Homeward  from  the  hunt  returning. 

On  their  faces  gleamed  the  firelight, 

Painting  them  with  streaks  of  crimson, 

And  behind  them  crouched  their  shadows 

In  the  corners  of  the  wigwam, 

And  the  smoke  in  wreaths  above  them 

Climbed  and  crowded  through  the  smoke-fluec 

Then  the  curtain  of  the  doorway 

From  without  was  slowly  lifted; 

Brighter  glowed  the  fire  a  moment 

And  a  moment  swerved  the  smoke-wreath, 

As  two  women  entered  softly, 

Passed  the  doorway  uninvited, 

Without  word  of  salutation, 

Without  sign  of  recognition, 

Sat  down  in  the  farthest  corner, 

Crouching  low  among  the  shadows. 

From  their  aspect  and  their  garments, 
Strangers  seemed  they  in  the  village; 
Very  pale  and  haggard  were  they, 
As  they  sat  there  ^ad  and  silent, 
Trembling,  cowering  with  the  shadows. 


158  WERNER'S   READINGS  No.  31. 

Was  it  the  wind  above  th_  omoke-fiue, 
Muttering  down  into  the  wigwam? 
Was  it  the  owl,  the  Koko-koho, 
Hooting  from  the  dismal  forest  ? 
Sure,  a  voice  said  in  the  silence: 
"These  are  corpses  clad  in  garments, 
These  are  ghosts  that  come  to  haunt  you. 
From  the  Kingdom  of  Ponemah, 
From  the  land  of  the  Hereafter!" 

Homeward  now  came  Hiawatha 
From  his  hunting  in  the  forest, 
With  the  snow  upon  his  tresses, 
And  the  red  deer  on  his  shoulders. 
At  the  feet  of,  Laughing  Water 
Down  he  threw  his  lifeless  burden ; 
Nobler,  handsomer  she  thought  him 
Than  when  first  he  came  to  woo  her, 
First  threw  down  the  deer  before  her, 
As  a  token  of  his  wishes, 
As  a  promise  of  the  future. 

Then  he  turned  and  saw  the  strangers, 
Cowering,  crouching  with  the  shadows; 
Said  within  himself,  "Who  are  they? 
What  strange  guests  has  Minnehaha?" 
But  he  questioned  not  the  strangers, 
Only  spake  to  bid  them  welcome 
To  his  lodge,  his  food,  his  fireside. 

When  the  evening  meal  was  ready 
And  the  deer  had  been  divided, 
Both  the  pallid  guests,  the  strangers, 
Springing  from  among  the  shadows, 
Seized  upon  the  choicest  portions, 
Seized  the  white  fat  of  the  roebuck, 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  I  $C 

Set  apart  for  Laughing  "Water, 
For  the  wife  of  Hiawatha; 
Without  asking,  without  thanking, 
Eagerly  devoured  the  morsels, 
Flitted  back  among  the  shadows 
In  the  corner  of  the  wigwam. 


Not  a  word  spake  Hiawatha, 

Not  a  motion  made  Nokomis, 

Not  a  gesture  Laughing  Water; 

Not  a  change  came  o'er  their  features; 

Only  Minnehaha  softly 

Whispered,  saying,  "They  are  famished; 

Let- them  do  what  best  delights  them; 

Let  them  eat,  for  they  are  famished." 


Many  a  daylight  dawned  and  darkened, 
Many  a  night  shook  off  the  daylight 
As  the  pine  shakes  off  the  snow-flakes 
From  the  midnight  of  its  branches ; 
Day  by  day  the  guests  unmoving 
Sat  there  silent  in  the  wigwam; 
But  by  night,  in  storm  or  starlight, 
Forth  they  went  into  the  forest, 
Bringing  fire-wood  to  the  wigwam, 
Bringing  pine-cones  for  the  burning, 
Always  sad  and  always  silent. 

Once  at  midnight  Hiawatha, 

Ever  wakeful,  ever  watchful, 

In  the  wigwam,  dimly  lighted 

By  the  brands  that  still  were  burning, 

By  the  glimmering,  flickering  firelight, 

Heard  a  sighing,  oft  repeated, 

Heard  a  sobbing,  as  of  soirow. 


I0O  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31* 

From  his  couch  rose  Hiawatha, 
From  his  shaggy  hides  of  bison, 
Pushed  aside  the  deer-skin  curtain, 
Saw  the  pallid  guests,  the  shadows, 
Sitting  upright  on  their  couches, 
Weeping  in  the  silent  midnight. 


And  he  said:   "O  guests!   why  is  it 
That  your  hearts  are  so  afflicted, 
That  you  sob  so  in  the  midnight? 
Has  perchance  the  old  Nokomis, 
Has  my  wife,  my  Minnehaha, 
Wronged  or  grieved  you  by  unkindness, 
Failed  in  hospitable  duties?" 


Then  the  shadows  ceased  from  weeping, 
Ceased  from  sobbing  and  lamenting, 
And  they  said,  with  gentle  voices: 
"We  are  ghosts  of  the  departed, 
Souls  of  those  who  once  were  with  you. 
From  the  realms  of  Chibiabos 
Hither  have  we  come  to  try  you, 
Hither  have  we  come  to  warn  you. 


"  Cries  of  grief  and  lamentation 
Reach  us  in  the  Blessed  Islands; 
Cries  of  anguish  from  the  living, 
Calling  back  their  friends  departed, 
Sadden  us  with  useless  sorrow. 
Therefore  have  we  come  to  try  you; 
No  one  knows  us,  no  one  heeds  us. 
We  are  but  a  burden  to  you, 
And  we  see  that  the  departed 
Have  no  place  among  the  living. 


HALLOWEEN  RECITATIONS.  l6l 

"Think  of  this,  0  Hiawatha! 
Speak  of  it  to  all  the  people, 
That  henceforward  and  forever 
They  no  more  with  lamentations 
Sadden  the  souls  of  the  departed 
In  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed. 

"Farewell,  noble  Hiawatha! 

We  have  put  you  to  the  trial, 

To  the  proof  have  put  your  patience, 

By  the  insult  of  our  presence, 

By  the  outrage  of  our  actions. 

We  have  found  you  great  and  noble. 

Fail  not  in  the  greater  trial, 

Faint  not  in  the  harder  struggle." 

When  they  ceased,  a  sudden  darkness 

Fell  and  filled  the  silent  wigwam.  '  ; 

Hiawatha  heard  a  rustle 

As  of  garments  trailing  by  him, 

Heard  the  curtain  of  the  doorway 

Lifted  by  a  hand  he  saw  not, 

Felt  the  cold  breath  of  the  night  air, 

For  a  moment  saw  the  starlight ;  ■  , .  - 

But  he  saw  the  ghosts  no  longer, 

Saw  no  more  the  wandering  spirits 

From  the  Kingdom  of  Ponemah, 

From  the  Land  of  the  Hereafter. 


1 62  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.   31. 


The   Colored   Dancing  Match. 


By  Frank  L.  Stanton. 


'Twuz  in  de  dancin'  season  w'en  de  fros'  wuz  layin'  roun' 
En  de  rabbit  wuz  a-gwine  lak  a  gray  ghos'  'cross  de  groun' — 
W'en  de  lazies'  er  niggers  wuz  a-comin'  to  de  scratch — 
Dat  we  took  de  whole  plantation  wid  de  cullud  Dancin'  Match. 

De  prize  wuz — lemme  see  now:  Two  hams,  a  side  er  meat, 
Sack  er  flour,  en  a  jimmyjohn  what  had  a  mouth  ez  sweet 
Ez  a  hive  a-drippin'  honey — ez  a  red  rose,  w'en  de  dew 
Sorter  tilts  it,  'twell  it's  leanin'  ter  de  bees  what  drinks  ter  vou. 

De  flo'  wuz  smooth  en  sanded,  de  fiddler  in  his  place — 
De  lively  music  ripplin'  'cross  de  wrinkles  in  his  face 
En  lightin'  up  de  eyes  er  him,  en  tinglin'  ter  his  feet: 
"Good  Times  in  Ole  Verginny,"  en  "Kentucky's  Hard  ter 
Beat!" 

De  schedule  fer  de  dancin'  wuz  "All  get  in  de  ring!" 

En  "Who'll  hoi'  out  de  longes'  whilst  dey  got  a  foot  ter  fling! " 

Dey  wuz  twenty  answer  roll-call,  lak  a  sojerin'  brigade, 

En  dey  never  wuz  sich  dancin'  sence  a  fiddle-string  wuz  made ! 

En  couple  after  couple — fagged  out  en  short  er  breath — 
Went  reelin'  f'um  dat  dancin'  'fo'  dey  dance  deyse'f  ter  death! 
All  of  'em  'cept  Br'er  Williams:   he  wuz  in  de  ring  fer  sho', 
Entiis  foots  des  kep'  a-kickin'  er  de  white  san'  f'um  de  flo'! 

De  fiddlestick  a-flyin',  de  lights  a-gittin'  low, 

De  music  in  a  gallop,  en  Br'er  Williams  on  de  go! 

"You  wins  de  prize,  Br'er  Williams!" — But  still  de  fiddler 

played, 
En  lightnin'  wuzn't  nuthin,  ter  de  steps  Br'er  Williams  made! 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  1 63 

He  dance  so  fas',  I  tell  you  he  paralyze  dem  folks; 

Lak  a  wagon-wheel  a-gwine  'twell  ycu  des  can't  see  de  spokes! 

Wid  shuffle,  shuffle,  shuffle,  en  many  a  turn  en  twist, 

His  form  a-gittin'  misty,  en  de  fiddler  in  de  mist! 

De  lights  gone  out ;  de  owl  hoot;   de  dogs  begin  ter  bark, 
En  Br'er  Williams  lookin'  ghos'-like  wid  dat  dancin'  in  de 

dark! 
Out  do  winders  jumped  de  people;    de  mules  commence  ter 

prance, 
En  'twuz,  "Good  Lawd,  he'p  Br'er  Williams,  fer  de  devil's  in 

de  dance!" 

Dey  galloped  'cross  de  country — de  wagons  rattlin'  'long; 
But  still  heerd  dat  fiddle  gwine  in  a  mos'  ondyin'  song! 
En  lookin'  back,  dey  sighted  in  de  skeery-lookin'  light 
Br'er  Williams  still  a-dancin'  lak  a  shadder  in  de  night. 

En  in  de  dancin'  season,  f'um  de  valley  en  de  hill 

Dey  kin  see  Br'er  Williams  dancin' — heah  de  fiddle  playin' 

still, 
En  heah  de  night  owls  hootin',  see  de  ole  ha'nts  stan'in'  roun', 
Whilst  Br'er  Williams'  ghos'  is  movin'  ter  de  fiddle's  squeaky 

soun'. 

En  dar  he'll  dance  ferever,  w'en  de  fros'  is  fallin  gray; 
En  dat  terrifyin'  fiddler  makes  de  same  ol'  fiddle  play; 
You  kin  heah  de  no'  a-creakin',  en  de  win'  all  mo'nful  sighs; 
En  we  don't  want  no  mo'  dancin'  whar  de  devil  wins  de  prize! 


The   Courtin'. 


By  James  Russell  Lowell. 


God  makes  sech  nights,  all  white  an'  still 
Fur  'z  you  can  look  or  listen, 

Moonshine  an'  snow  on  field  an'  hill, 
All  silence  an'  all  glisten. 


164  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

Zekle  crep'  up  quite  unbeknown 
An'  peeked  in  thru'  the  winder, 

An'  there  sot  Huldy  all  alone, 
'Ith  no  one  nigh  to  hender. 

A  fireplace  filled  the  room's  one  side 
With  half  a  cord  o'  wood  in — 

There  warn't  no  stoves  (tell  comfort  died) 
To  bake  ye  to  a  puddin'. 

The  wa'nut  logs  shot  sparkles  out 
Towards  the  pootiest,  bless  her, 

An'  leetle  flames  danced  all  about 
The  chiny  on  the  dresser. 

Agin  the  chimbley  crook-necks  hung, 

An'  in  amongst  'em  rusted 
The  ole  queen's  arm  that  gran'ther  Young 

Fetched  back  from  Concord  busted. 


The  very  room,  coz  she  was  in, 

Seemed  warm  from  floor  to  ceilin', 

An'  she  looked  full  ez  rosy  agin 
Ez  the  apples  she  was  peelin'. 

'T  was  kin'  o'  kingdom-come  to  look 
On  sech  a  blessed  creetur, 

A  dogrose  blushin'  to  a  brook 
Ain't  modester  nor  sweeter. 


He  was  six  foot  o'  man,  A  1, 
Clean  grit  an'  human  natur'; 

None  could  n't  quicker  pitch  a  ton 
Nor  dror  a  furrer  straighter. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  165 

He'd  sparked  it  with  full  twenty  gals, 
Had  squired  'em,  danced  'em,  druv  'em, 

Fust  this  one,  an'  then  thet,  by  spells — 
All  is,  he  could  n't  love  'em. 

But  long  o'  her  his  veins  'ould  run 

All  crinkly  like  curled  maple, 
The  side  she  breshed  felt  full  o'  sun, 

Ez  a  south  slope  in  Ap'il. 

She  thought  no  v'ice  hed  'sech  a  swing 

Ez  hisn  in  the  choir; 
My!  when  he  made  Ole  Hundred  ring, 

She  knoived  the  Lord  was  nigher. 

An  she'd  blush  scarlit,  right  in  prayer, 

When  her  new  meetin'-bunnet 
Felt  somehow  thru'  its  crown  a  pair 

O'  blue  eyes  sot  upon  it. 

Thet  night,  I  tell  ye,  she  looked  some! 

She  seemed  to  've  gut  a  new  soul, 
For  she  felt  sartin-sure  he'd  come, 

Down  to  her  very  shoe-sole. 

She  heered  a  foot,  an'  knowed  it  tu, 

A-raspin'  on  the  scraper, — 
All  ways  to  once  her  feelin's  flew 

Like  sparks  in  burnt -up  paper. 

He  kin'  o'  l'itered  on  the  mat, 

Some  doubtfle  o'  the  sekle, 
His  heart  kep'  goin'  pity-pat, 

But  hern  went  pity  Zekle. 

An'  yit  she  gin  her  cheer  a  jerk 

Ez  though  she  wished  him  furder, 
An'  on  her  apples  kep'  to  work, 

Parin'  away  like  murder. 


1 66  WERNER'S  READINGS  No.  31. 

"You  want  to  see  my  Pa,  I  s'pose?" 
"Wal.  .  .no.  .  .1  come  designin'  " — 

"To  see  my  ma?     She's  sprinklin'  clo'es 
Agin  to-morrer's  i'nin'." 

To  say  why  gals  acts  so  or  so, 
Or  don't  'ould  be  presumin'; 

Mebby  to  mean  yes  an'  say  no 
Comes  natural  to  women. 

He  stood  a  spell  on  one  foot  fust, 
Then  stood  a  spell  on  t'  other 

An'  on  which  one  he  felt  the  wust 
He  couldn't  ha'  told  ye  nuther. 

Says  he,  "I'd  better  call  agin"; 

Says  she,  "Think  likely,  Mister"; 
Thet  last  word  pricked  him  like  a  pin, 

An' .  .  .  Wal,  he  up  an'  kist  her. 

When  Ma  bimeby  upon  'em  slips, 

Huldy  sot  pale  ez  ashes, 
All  kin'  o'  smily  'roun  the  lips 

An'  teary  'roun  the  lashes. 

For  she  was  jes'  the  quiet  kind 

Whose  naturs  never  vary, 
Like  streams  that  keep  a  summer  mind 

Snowhid  in  Jenooary. 

The  blood  clost  roun'  her  heart  felt  glued 
Too  tight  for  all  expressin', 

Tell  mother  see  how  metters  stood, 
An'  gin  'em  both  her  blessin'. 

Then  her  red  come  back  like  the  tide 
Down  to  the  Bay  o'  Fundy, 

An'  all  I  know  Is  they  was  cried 
In  meetin'  come  nex'  Sundav. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  167 


BROOMSTICK  TRAIN;  OR  RETURN 
OF  THE  WITCHES 


Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 


[Used    by    special    arrangement    with    Houghton    Mifflin    Company,     authorized 
publishers  of  the   writings  of  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes.] 


I. 

LOOK  out!     Look  out,  boys!     Clear  the  track! 
The  witches  are  here !    They've  all  come  back 
They  hanged  them  high,  but  they  wouldn't  lie  still, 
For  cats  and  witches  are  hard  to  kill ; 
They  buried  them  deep  but  they  wouldn't  die, — 
Books  say  they  did,  but  they  lie !  they  lie ! 

II. 

A  couple  of  hundred  years,  or  so, 

They  had  knocked  about  in  the  world  below, 

When  an  Essex  deacon  dropped  in  to  call, 

And  a  homesick  feeling  seized  them  all ; 

For  he  came  from  a  place  they  knew  full  well, 

And  many  a  tale  he  had  to  tell. 

They  longed  to  visit  the  haunts  of  men, 

To  see  the  old  dwellings  they  knew  again, 

On  their  wellr-trained  broomsticks  mounted  high. 

Seen  like  shadows  against  the  sky; 

Crossing  the  tracks  of  owls  and  bats, 

Hugging  before  them  their  coal-black  cats. 

III. 

Well  did  they  know,  those  gray  old  wives, 
The  sights  we  see  in  our  daily  drives: 


168  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

Shimmer  of  lake  and  shine  of  sea, 

Brown's  bare  hill  with  its  lonely  tree, 

(It  wasn't  then  as  we  see  it  now, 

With  one  scant  scalp-lock  to  shade  its  brow;) 

Dusky  nooks  in  the  Essex  woods, 

Dark,  dim,  Dante-like  solitudes, 

Where  the  tree-toad  watches  the  sinuous  snake 

Glide  through  his  forests  of  fern  and  brake; 

Ipswich  river;  its  old  stone  bridge; 

Far  off  Andover's  Indian  Ridge, 

And  many  a  scene  where  history  tells, 

Some  shadow  of  bygone  terror  dwells, — 

Of  "Norman's  Woe"  with  its  tale  of  dread, 

Of  the  Screeching  Woman  of  Marblehead, 

(The  fearful  story  that  turns  men  pale : 

Don't  bid  me  tell  it, — my  speech  would  fail.) 

IV. 

For  that  "couple  of  hundred  years,  or  so," 
There  had  been  no  peace  in  the  world  below; 
The  witches  still  grumbling,  "It  isn't  fair; 
Come,  give  us  a  taste  of  the  upper  air ! 
We've  had  enough  of  your  sulphur  springs, 
And  the  evil  odor  that  round  them  clings; 
We  long  for  a  drink  that  is  cool  and  nice, — 
Great  buckets  of  water  with  Wenham  ice; 
We've  served  you  well  on  earth,  you  know ; 
You're  a  good  old-— fellow — come,  let  us  go!" 

V. 

I  don't  feel  sure  of  his  being  good, 

But  he  happened  to  be  in  a  pleasant  mood, — 

As  fiends  with  their  skin?  full  sometimes  are, — 

(He'd  been  drinking  with  "roughs"  at  a  Boston  bar.) 

So  what  does  he  do  but  up  and  shout 

To  a  graybeard  turnkey,  "Let  'em  out!" 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  169 

VI. 
To  mind  his  orders  was  all  he  knew; 
The  gates  swung  open,  and  out  they  flew, 
"Where  are  our  broomsticks?"  the  beldams  cried. 
"Here  are  your  broomsticks,"  an  imp  replied. 
"They've  been  in — the  place  you  know — so  long 
They  smell  of  brimstone  uncommon  strong; 
But  they've  gained  by  being  left  alone, — 
Just  look,  and  you'll  see  how  tall  they've  grown." 
■ — "And  where  is  my  cat?"  a  vixen  squalled. 

VII. 

"Yes,  where  are  our  cats?"  the  witches  bawled,, 

And  began  to  call  them  all  by  name : 

As  fast  as  they  called  the  cats,  they  came : 

There  was  bob-tailed  Tommy  and  long-tailed  Tim,, 

And  wall-eyed  Jacky  and  green-eyed  Jim, 

And  splay-foot  Benny  and  slimlegged  Beau, 

And  Skinny  and  Squally,  and  Jerry  and  Joe, 

And  many  another  that  came  at  call, — ■ 

It  would  take  too  long  to  count  them  all, 

All  black, — one  could  hardly  tell  which  was  which, 

But  every  cat  knew  his  own  old  witch; 

And  she  knew  hers  as  hers  knew  her, — 

Ah,  didn't  they  curl  their  tails  and  purr! 

VIII. 

No  sooner  the  withered  hags  were  free 
Than  out  they  swarmed  for  a  midnight  spree; 
I  couldn't  tell  all  they  did  in  rhymes, 
But  the  Essex  people  had  dreadful  times. 
The  Swampscott  fishermen  still  relate 
How  a  strange  sea-monster  stole  their  bait; 
How  their  nets  were  tangled  in  loops  and  knots, 
And  they  found  dead  crabs  in  their  lobster-pots. 


170  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

Poor  Danvers  grieved  for  her  blasted  crops, 
And  Wilmington  mourned  over  mildewed  hops. 
A  blight  played  havoc  with  Beverly  beans, — 
It  was  all  the  work  of  those  hateful  queans ! 

IX. 
Now  when  the  boss  of  the  beldams  found 
That  without  his  leave  they  were  ramping  round. 
He  called, — they  could  hear  him  twenty  miles, 
From  Chelsea  beach  to  the  Misery  Isles ; 
The  deafest  old  granny  knew  his  tone 
Without  the  trick  of  the  telephone. 
"Come  here,  you  witches  !     Come  here !"  says  he,- 
"At  your  games  of  old,  without  asking  me ! 
I'll  give  you  a  little  job  to  do 
That  will  keep  you  stirring,  you  godless  crew !" 

X. 

They  came,  of  course,  at  their  master's  call, 

The  witches,  the  broomsticks,  the  cats,  and  all; 

He  led  the  hags  to  a  railway  train 

The  horses  were  trying  to  drag  in  vain. 

"Now,  then,"  says  he,  "you've  had  your  fun, 

And  here  are  the  cars  you've  got  to  run. 

The  driver  may  just  unhitch  his  team, 

We  don't  want  horses,  we  don't  want  steam  °3 

You  may  keep  your  old  black  cats  to  hug, 

But  the  loaded  train  you  have  got  to  lug," 

XI. 

Since  then  on  many  a  car  you'll  see 
A  broomstick  plain  as  plain  can  be ; 
On  every  stick  there's  a  witch  astride,— 
The  string  you  see  to  her  leg  is  tied. 
She  will  do  a  mischief  if  she  can, 
But  the  string  is  held  by  a  careful  man., 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  171 

And  whenever  the  evil-minded  witch 

Would  cut  some  caper  he  gives  a  twitch. 

As  for  the  hag-,  you  can't  see  her, 

But  hark !  you  can  hear  her  black  cat's  purr, 

And  now  and  then,  as  a  train  goes  by, 

You  may  catch  a  gleam  from  her  wicked  eye. 

XII. 

Often  you've  looked  on  a  rushing  train, 
But  just  what  moved  it  was  not  so  plain. 
It  couldn't  be  those  wires  above, 
For  they  could  neither  pull  nor  shove; 
Where  was  the  motor  that  made  it  go? 
You  couldn't  guess,  but  now  you  knozv. 
Remember  my  rhymes  when  you  ride  again 
On  the  rattling  rail  by  the  broomstick  train! 


LESSON-TALK 


By  Emma  Dunning  Banks. 


I. 

Give  opening  lines  in  bright,  lively,  breezy  manner,  with 
something  in  voice  suggestive  of  shout.  Right-hand  gesture 
of  attention  and  serio-comic  warning  should  also  be  made,  sway- 
ing lightly  forward  at  same  time  in  animated  manner,  with 
weight  on  right  foot.  Ascending  gesture  would  be  appropriate 
on  "they  hanged  them  high."  Especially  emphasize  "hard"  in 
"hard  to  kill."  With  impressive  solemnity  in  voice  and  manner 
make  descending  gesture  on  "buried  them  deep."  Shake  head 
negatively  as  you  describe  incorrigible  stubbornness  of  witches, 
and  say  "but  they  wouldn't  die."  With  right  hand  edgewise, 
as  you  lean  forward  to  right,  lay  forefinger  on  left  side  of 
mouth,  and  in  stage-whisper  give  first  "they  lie,"  then  lean 
to  left  and  place  hand  on  right  side  of  mouth,  and  whisper 
words  a  second  time. 


172  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  91. 

II. 

Drop  now  into  easy  conversational  tone  and  manner.  After 
"in,"  in  line  2,  make  very  suggestive  pause  filled  in  with  equally 
suggestive  descending  gesture,  as  you  point  to  supposed  loca- 
tion of  regions  below,  then  say  "the  world  below."  Empha- 
size "Essex  deacon,"  also  "homesick."  On  "mounted  high" 
make  ascending  right-hand  gesture,  merging  gesture  into  one 
of  waving  hand,  as  with  forward  attitude,  head  upraised  and 
eyes  uplifted,  you  speak  of  the  "shadows  against  the  sky." 
While  hand  is  still  in  ascendant,  depict  imaginary  "crossing 
the  track  of  owls  and  bats."  "Hugging"  suggests  double  ges- 
ture, if  one  wishes  so  to  finish  stanza. 

III. 

Consisting,  as  it  does,  mainly  of  description,  this  stanza  may 
be  omitted  if  the  recitation  is  likely  to  take  too  much  time.  A 
spiral,  serpentine  movement  of  hand  will  serve  to  describe 
"sinuous  glide  of  the  snake."  Use  gestures  of  location  as  you 
say  "Ipswich  river,"  "its  old  stone  bridge,"  "Far  off  Andover's 
Indian  Ridge."  Backward  gesture  will  emphasize  fact  that  the 
"terror"  was  "bygone." 

IV. 

Again  point  downward  as  you  again  say  "the  world  below." 
Now  comes  manner  of  voice  to  be  employed  in  characterization 
of  witches'  complaining.  The  one  most  appropriate  is  most 
fitly  described  by  "catty."  It  should  also  be  slightly  cracked 
and  tremulous  as  to  be  aged.  This  is  commonly  supposed  to 
be  an  attribute  of  a  witch.  Pause  after  "you're  a  good  old — " 
and  stutter  out  a  "D,"  if  you  so  desire. 

V. 

During  line  1  shake  head  negatively.  Bring  out  line  4  in 
confidential  stage-aside,  and  make  strong  point  of  it.  If  you 
must  impersonate  his  Satanic  majesty,  give  him  a  stentorian 
voice  and  do  it  well. 

VI. 

Bring  hands  together,  then  swing  them  widely  apart  as  you 
say  "the  gates  swung  open ;"  then  fling  both  hands  forward  in 
manner  descriptive  of  "out  they  flew."    Always  remember  te 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  1 73 

merge  one  gesture  into  another,  whenever  possible.  The  "catty" 
voice  of  the  witches  is  answered  by  thin,  piping  squeak  when 
"imp"  replies,  taking  care  to  articulate  every  word  distinctly. 
In  place  of  dash  after  "they've  been  in — ,"  introduce  an  "ahem," 
followed  by  downward  pointing  gesture. 

VII. 

For  witch  who  first  cries  "and  where  is  my  cat?"  adopt 
"squalling"  voice,  as  poem  indicates.  Then  use  voice  first  em- 
ployed, the  "catty"  voice,  for  the  united  cry,  "yes,  where  are 
our  cats?"  By  being  especially  vivacious  and  animated,  enu- 
meration of  cats  may  be  made  quite  a  telling  point.  There  are 
ten  of  them,  so  poet  has  given  just  as  many  cats  to  talk  about 
as  we  have  fingers  on  our  hands.  In  sprightly,  airy  manner, 
use  forefinger  of  right  hand  to  tap  fingers  of  left,  commencing 
with  thumb,  tapping  lightly  one  finger  after  other  for  each  cat 
named.  When  you  come  to  "slim-legged  Beau"  you  will  have 
used  up  all  fingers  of  left  hand,  and  must  reverse  action-work 
by  using  forefinger  of  left  hand  to  enumerate  upon  right;  as 
you  finish  by  saying  "Joe"  and  tapping  little  finger  of  right 
hand,  hands  should  spread  apart,  at  same  instant  making  little 
movement  indicative  of  fact  that  there  were  too  many  for  any 
more  attempts  at  enumeration.  Little,  impressive  shakes  of 
forefinger  will  emphasize  "But  every  cat  knew  her  own  old 
witch,"  and  also  line  following.  Particularly  knowing  nod  of 
head  should  accompany  another  shake  of  finger  as  you  say 
"Ah,  didn't  they  curl  their  tails  and  purr."  Before  saying 
"purr"  pause  and  imitate  contented  purring  of  cat.  Use  pho- 
netic sound  of  p  followed  by  prolonged  trilling  of  "r." 

VIII. 

"Out  they  swarmed"  suggests  double  gesture  consisting  of 
little  spreading  motion.  Decidedly  negative  shake  of  head  finds 
place  in  line  3,  and  "dreadful"  is  brought  out  with  especially 
sympathetic  emphasis.  Swaying  alternately  forward  right  and 
left,  relate  impressively  tales  of  mischief  done  by  witches. 

IX. 

Pause  after  "now,"  and  show  by  manner  and  voice  that  some- 
thing was  done  when  "the  boss  of  the  beldams"  rose  to  the 
occasion.  Infuse  strong  meaning  in  emphasis  employed  upon 
"called."  Make  "twenty  miles"  full  distance  by  far-pointing 
gesture,  and  equally  far-pointed  glance  in  forward  direction. 


174  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  SI. 

Backward  left-hand  gesture  will  place  "Chelsea  beach"  in  rear, 
and  it  may  be  separated  widely  from  "Misery  Isles"  by  locating 
latter  well  forward  with  right-hand  gesture.  Stentorian  voice, 
before  mentioned,  now  demands  coloring  of  indignation  and 
authority. 

X. 

Enumerate  on  fingers  "the  witches,  the  broomsticks,  the 
cats;"  then  separate  hands,  as  you  say  "and  all."  Point  out 
"railway  train."  Negative  nods  will  render  emphatic  "don't" 
found  twice  in  line  8.  Finish  stanza  by  bringing  right  fist  de- 
terminedly down  upon  left  palm  as  you  say  "you  have  %ot  to 
lug." 

XI. 

These  concluding  stanzas  demand  little  action-work,  but  very 
much  of  particular  attention  to  explanatory  emphasis,  given  in 
bright,  conversational  manner,  taking  care  not  to  lose  a  point. 
Little  twitch  may  be  used  when  you  say  "he  gives  a  twitch ;" 
also  another  negative  nod,  when  you  say  "you  can't  see  her." 
Introduce  after  "hark !"  imitation  of  sound  made  by  electric 
car. 

XII. 

Impetuous  forward  movement  will  describe  "rushing,"  let- 
ting hand  remain  extended,  but  turning  it  supinely  during  next 
line.  This  gesture  merges  into  ascendant  as  you  say  "it  couldn't 
be  those  wires  above,"  and  finishes  by  movement  of  hand  de- 
scriptive of  alternative  pulling  and  shoving.  Shake  forefinger 
and  nod  head  impressively  on  "but  now  you  know."  Conclude 
in  bright,  easy,  natural  manner. 


LAY  OF  THE  IRISH  FAMINE 


Rosa  Mulholland  (Lady  Gilbert). 


HUSH !  hear  you  how  the  night  wind  keens  around  the 
craggy  reek? 
Its  voice  peals  high  above  the  waves  that  thunder  in  the  creek. 

"Aroon !  aroon !  arouse  thee,  and  hie  thee  o'er  the  moor ! 
Ten  miles  away  there's  bread,  they  say,  to  feed  the  starving 
poor. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  175 

"God  save  thee,  Eileen  bawn  astor,  and  guide  thy  naked  feet, 
And  keep  the  fainting  life  in  us  till  thou  come  back  with  meat. 

"God  send  the  moon  to  show  thee  light  upon  the  way  so  drear, 
And  mind  thou  well  the  rocky  dell,  and  heed  the  rushy  mere." 

She  kissed  her  father's  palsied  hand,  her  mother's  pallid  cheek, 
And  whirled  out  on  the  driving  storm  beyond  the  craggy  reek. 

All  night  she  tracks,  with  bleeding  feet,  the  rugged  mountain 

way, 
And  townsfolks  meet  her  in  the  street  at  flushing  of  the  day. 

But  God  is  kinder  on  the  moor  than  man  is  in  the  town, 
And  Eileen  quails  before  the  stranger's  harsh  rebuke  and  frown. 

Night's  gloom  enwraps  the  hills  once  more  and  hides  a  slender 

form 
That  shudders  o'er  the  moor  again  before  the  driving  storm. 

No  bread  is  in  her  wallet  stored,  but  on  the  lonesome  heath 
She  lifts  her  empty  hands  to  God,  and  prays  for  speedy  death. 

Yet  struggles  onward,  faint  and  blind,  and  numb  to  hope  or 

fear, 
Unmindful  of  the  rocky  dell  or  of  the  rushy  mere. 

But,  ululu !  what  sight  is  this? — what  forms  come  by  the  reek? 
As  white  and  thin  as  evening  mist  upon  the  mountain's  peak. 

Mist-like  they  glide  across  the  heath — a  weird  and  ghostly  band ; 
The  foremost  crosses  Eileen's  path,  and  grasps  her  by  the  hand, 

"Dear  daughter,  thou  hast  suffered  sore,  but  we  are  well  and 

free; 
For  God  has  ta'en  our  life  from  us,  nor  wills  it  long  to  thee. 

"So  hie  thee  to  our  cabin  lone,  and  dig  a  grave  so  deep, 
And  underneath  the  golden  gorse  our  corpses  lay  to  sleep — 


176  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

"Else  they  will  come  and  smash  the  walls  upon  our  mould'ring 

bones, 
And  screaming  mountain-birds  will  tear  our  flesh  from  out  the 

stones. 

"And,  daughter,  haste  to  do  thy  work,  so  thou  mayst  quickly 

come, 
And  take  with  us  our  grateful  rest,  and  share  our  peaceful 

home." 

■Jf.  5^  >k  5J5  ;jc  ^c 

The  sun  behind  the  distant  hills  far-sinking  down  to  sleep; 
A  maiden  on  the  lonesome  moor,  digging  a  grave  so  deep ; 

The  moon  above  the  craggy  reek,  silvering  moor  and  wave, 
And  the  pale  corpse  of  a  maiden  young  stretched  on  a  new™ 
made  grave. 


GRANDPA'S  HALLOWE'EN 


Carroll  Prescon. 


YEARS  and  years  ago  it  happened, 
On  the  farm  where  I  was  born, 
But  it  all  comes  back  as  clearly 

As  the  things  of  yestermorn. 
You  boys  living  in  the  city 

Don't  know  half  the  fun  we  had 
Every  Hallowe'en  at  husking, 

When  your  grandpa  was  a  lad. 
I  remember  how  your  grandma 

Husked  an  ear  and  found  it  red ; 
How  I  claimed  the  red-ear  forfeit — 

Kissed  her — and  she  hung  her  head. 
iWhen  the  corn  had  all  been  garnered, 

And  the  husks  were  cleared  away, 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  ijj 

Old  Jim  Johnson  tuned  his  fiddle — 

Sakes  alive  !    How  he  could  play  \ 
"Money  Musk"  and  old  "Sir  Roger"— 

I  can  almost  see  them  now, 
In  the  minuet's  courtly  circles, 

•  Sweeping  low  with  stately  bow. 
How  your  grandma's  golden  tresses 

Glittered  'neath  the  lantern  light ! 
Forty  years — but  I  remember — 

Just  as  if  it  was  to-night. 
Then  the  farmhouse — such  a  supper- 
Apples,  nuts  and  gingerbread; 
How  we  sang  until  the  shouting 

Shook  the  rafters  overhead. 
Ducked  for  apples,  "threw  the  blue  yarn," 

Sought  the  apple's  magic  spell ; 
Snuffed  the  candles,  sowed  the  hempseed, 

Tried  more  tricks  than  I  can  tell; 
Near  to  midnight,  when  the  magic 

Of  the  Fates  had  potent  grown, 
All  we  boys  had  left  the  kitchen, 

So  the  girls  might  be  alone. 
Scattered  all  about  the  farmyard, 

"Hide  and  Seek"  in  haste  we  tried, 
When  I  noticed  that  the  outside 

Cellar-door  was  open  wide. 
Slipping  down  the  steep  old  stairway, 

Quick  I  dropped  the  door  behind; 
There  among  the  apple-barrels, 

Thinking  vantage  safe  to  find. 
Munching  on  a  "Ribstone"  pippin, 

I  had  found  a  seat  at  last, 
When  the  house-door  to  the  cellar 

Opened  to  let  some  one  past; 
And  my  heart  went  all  a-tremble 

When  I  saw  your  grandma  there, 


178  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  SI. 

With  a  mirror  and  a  candle, 

Walking  backward  down  the  stair. 
So  I  tiptoed  gently  forward, 

Like  a  thief  about  to  steal ; 
Wondered  would  she  take  affright  at 

What  her  mirror  would  reveal. 
Step  by  step  she  slow  descended, 

Faltering — till,  but  one  step  more, 
And  at  last  she  found  her  footing 

On  the  creaky  cellar  floor. 
Laughing  in  the  little  mirror, 

Straight  I  looked  her  in  the  eyes; 
"I'm  so  glad,"  I  heard  her  murmur, 

Not  a  least  sign  of  surprise. 
And,  without  a  glance  behind  her, 

Up  the  stair  she  straightway  fled, 
Eager  to  rejoin  the  others 

In  the  kitchen  overhead. 
So  'twas  Hallowe'en  that  told  me 

What  I  long  had  hoped  to  know, 
And  that's  why  my  heart  clings  closely 

To  those  days  of  long  ago. 
For  you  boys  here  in  the  city 

Don't  know  half  the  fun  we  had 
Every  Hallowe'en  at  husking, 

When  your  grandpa  was  a  lad. 


MXMMY'S  LUCK  CHARM  FER  DE  BRIDE 


Martha  S.  Gielow. 


HYAR,  honey,  take  this  littl'  gif 
An'  place  it  nigh  yo'  heart, 
'Twill  keep  erway  dat  littl'  rif 
What  causes  folks  ter  part. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  179 

Hit's  only  des  er  rabbit-toe, 

But  den,  de  luck  it  brings 
Is  wuf  er  million  dimes  an'  mo' 

An'  all  de  weddin'-rings  ! 

Be  sho'  yo'  wear  it  in  yo'  bre's', 

Pertic'lar  on  de  day 
De  preacher  come  ter  pray  an'  bless 

An'  jine  yo'  han's  ter  stay. 
Des'  keep  it,  honey,  an'  yo'll  fine 

Hit  hoi's  er  magic  spell 
Ter  make  yo'  lover  true  an'  kine 

An'  han'some,  des  es  well 

Er  rabbit-foot  what's  congered  right- 

Lak  dis  un  is,  I  know, 
Will  make  yo'  always  glad  an'  bright 

An'  good  an'  putty,  sho'. 


BACKSLIDING  BROTHER 


Frank  L.  Stanton. 


DEE  screech-owl,  screech  f'um  de  ol'  barn  lof : 
"Yo'  drinked  yo'  dram  sence  yo'  done  swear  off. 
En  yo'  gwine  de  way 
Whar'  de  sinners  stay, 
An'  satan  gwine  to  roas'  yo'  at  de  Jedgemint-Day !" 

Den  de  ol'  hant  say  f'um  de  ol'  chu'ch-wall : 
"Yo'  des'  so  triflin'  dat  yo'  had  ter  fall ! 

En  yo'  gwine  de  way 

Whar'  de  brimstone  stay, 
An'  satan  gwine  to  roas'  yo'  at  de  Jedgemint-Day !" 

Den  I  shake  en  shiver, 
En  I  hunt  de  kiver, 


l8o  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

En  I  cry  to  de  good  Lawd,  "Please  deliver!" 

I  tell  'im  plain 

Dat  my  hope  is  vain, 
En  I  drinked  ma'  dram  fer  to  ease  ma'  pain. 

Den  de  screech-owl  screech  f 'um  de  north  to  south : 
"Yo'  drinked  yo'  dram  en  yo'  smacked  yo'  mouth! 
En  yo'  gwine  de  way 
Whar'  de  brimstone  stay, 
An'  satan  gwine  to  roas'  yo'  at  de  Jedgemint-Day !" 


SIGNS 


Josephine  Merwin  Cook. 


DON'  yo'  b'lieve  in  signs, 
Mah  Sophie? 
I  does,  an'  so  mus'  yo'. 
When  yo'  spills  de  salt, 
Don'  yo'  alius  th'ow 
It  obber  yo'  lef  shoulder,  so? 
Cose  yo'  does  it,  don'  I  kno'  ? 

An'  when  de  rooster  crow, 

Mah  Sophie, 
On  de  do'-step,  don'  yo'  kno', 
Dat's  de  sign  dat  folks  is  cumin'; 
Den  it  is  dat  yo'  go  fixin', 
While  sum  HT  lub-chune  hummin'; 
'Ah,  yo'  wuz  a  liT  vixen. 

Kase  yo'  think  dey's  all  fer  yo', 

Mah  Sophie. 
Dat  is  whut  yo'  alius  do, 
An'  when  de  stars  shine  bright, 
Yo'  gwine  lissen  all  yo'  might, 
Fo'  de  footstep,  drawin'  nigh; 
Dat  is  me;  do  yo'  kno',  Sophie? 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  181 

SPOOKS 


Josephine  Merwin  Cook. 


WHEN  I  wuz  a  HT  black  mite, 
I  uster  lissen  out  at  night, 
Kase  de  ol'  grey-owl,  in  de  sycamo'  tree, 
Used  ter  hoot,  an'  hoot,  at  me : 

"Whoo\  Whoo',  ah,  Whoo'  cooks  fo'  yo'  all?" 

He  uster  skeer  me  mos'  ter  deaf, 
Twell  I  foun'  out  who  wuz  wastin'  his  bref ; 
Mah  mammy  said,  tain't  nufnV,  chile, 
But  de  hoot-owl,  callin'  all  de  while: 
"Whoo',  Whoo',  ah,  Whoo'  cooks  fo'  yo'  all?" 

Do  Ise  growed  up  now,  I  tell  yo'  true, 
Dat  same  ole  soun'  meks  me  shiver  clean  th'oo, 
When  I  goes  down  de  road,  in  de  dark,  yo'  kno', 
I  trimmel  all  obber,  ah  suahly  do : 
"Whoo',  Whoo',  ah,  Whoo'  cooks  fo'  yo'  all?" 


OLD  HALLOWE'EN  FRIENDS 


J.  W.  Foley. 


OHO !   Mr.   Ghost,  with  your  raiment  of  white, 
Come  to  frighten  me  out  of  my  wits  in  the  night ! 
With  your  eyes  flaming  forth  like  two  coals,  and  your  breath 
Bearing  fire  that  would  scare  a  poor  mortal  to  death; 
With  your  rows  of  great  teeth  grinning  widely  at  me 
And  your  loose-hanging  gown  flapping  under  the  tree 
In  the  orchard  out  there— oh !  I  know  how  you're  made, 
And  the  youngsters  who  made  you,  so  I'm  not  afraid. 


182  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

Oho !  Mr.  Ghost,  I  am  waiting  for  you ; 

You're  an  old  friend  of  mine,  both  trustworthy  and  true; 

For  that  big  head  of  yours  that  near  gave  me  a  fright 

Was  in  somebody's  pumpkin-patch  only  last  night. 

And  out  of  my  window  not  two  hours  ago 

I  saw  your  head  scooped  out  by  Bill,  Jack,  and  Joe; 

And  I  saw  you  stuck  up  on  the  end  of  a  lath 

Before  you  were  stationed  right  here  in  my  path. 

Oho !  Mr.  Ghost,  with  your  garments  so  fine ! 
I  know  what  became  of  that  sheet  on  the  line 
In  the  neighbor's  back  yard,  newly  washed  and  alone. 
It  is  hiding  that  lath  that  you  use  for  backbone, 
And  the  candle  that  burned  in  the  kitchen  last  night 
Lights  those  cavernous  eyes  that  near  gave  me  fright; 
Indeed,  you  are  made  from  such  odds  and  such  ends 
That  I  feel  we're  the  warmest  of  very  old  friends. 

And  those  sepulchral  groans  you  are  making  at  me, 
I  know  whence  they  come — from  that  big  apple-tree 
That  is  right  behind  you — I  have  heard  them  before; 
They  were  begging  for  cake  at  the  side  kitchen-door. 
So  you  see,  Mr.  Ghost,  with  your  pumpkin  and  lath, 
With  your  candle  and  sheet,  when  I  came  up  the  path 
I  heard  a  boy  chuckle  up  there  in  the  tree, 
And  that  is  the  reason  you  can't  frighten  me ! 


PLANTATION   DITTY 


Frank  L.  Stanton. 


DE  gray  owl  sing  f'um  de  chimbly  top, 
"Who-who-is  you-oo?" 
En  I  say,  "Good  Lawd,  hit's  des'  po'  me, 
En  I  ain't  quite  ready  fo'  de  Jasper  Sea, 
I'm  po'  an'  sinful,  ez  yo'  'lowed  I'd  be ; 
Oh,  wait,  good  Lawd,  twell  to-morrer." 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  183 

De  gray  owl  sing  f'um  de  cypress  tree, 

"Who-who-is  you-oo?" 
En  I  say,  "Good  Lawd,  ef  yo'  look,  yo'll  see 
Hit  ain't  nobody  but  des'  po'  me, 
En  I  lak  to  stay  twell  ma'  time  is  free; 

Oh,  wait,  good  Lawd,  twell  to-morrer." 


SPOOKS'  SURPRISE  PARTY 


THEY  sat  on  the  limb  of  a  crabapple-tree, 
A  Bogy,  a  Spook  and  a  little  Banshee. 
The  wind  blew  north  and  the  wind  blew  free — 

Oh,  'twas  a*  merry  meeting 
The  Bogy  had  eyes  as  big  as  a  plate, 
The  Spook  had  feet  number  twenty-eight, 
While  the  Banshee  had  covered  her  horrible  pate 
With  the  ghastliest  kind  of  sheeting. 

Said  the  Bogy  at  last  with  a  dismal  wail, 
"To  frighten  folks  now  I  always  fail; 
They  laugh  instead  of  becoming  pale 

When  they  at  midnight  meet  me. 
Our  business  is  falling  in  disrepute, 
It's  neither  productive  of  fame  nor  loot; 
Back  to  the  shades  I  think  I'll  scoot — - 

There  the  ghosts  will  be  glad  to  greet  me." 

"Not  far  from  here,"  croaked  the  grim  Banshee 
''Lives  a  lonely  man  of  low  degree; 
Pale  and  sad  and  sickly  he, 

And  'twould  be  funny,  very, 
To  frighten  him  into  a  fearful  fit, 
Just  to  liven  us  up  a  bit 
Before  we  take  our  final  flit 

Over  the  soectral  ferry. 


184  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  91. 

"We'll  descend  on  him  in  a  baleful  bunch, 

Grinning  as  if  we'd  like  him  for  lunch : 

I'll  howl  while  the  Bogy  his  teeth  may  scrunch; 

The  Spook  can  be  sadly  singing." 
"Agreed,"  cried  the  ghastly,  ghostly  pair. 
They  sped  away  through  the  midnight  air, 
Routed  the  recluse  out  of  his  lair, 

By  their  howls  and  growls  and  ringing. 

Courteously  he  invited  them  in, 

In  vain  did  the  Spook  grimace  and  grin, 

And  the  Bogy  raise  a  horrible  din; 

Their  host  smiled  more  than  any. 
He  didn't  turn  pale  nor  his  blood  cdngeal, 
But  considerately  asked,  "Well,  how  do  you  feel?" 
And  spread  them  out  a  bountiful  meal, 

While  his  welcome  words  were  many. 

"Do  you  not- stand,"  said  the  Bogy,  "aghast 
At  the  terrible  trio  who  join  your  repast? 
We,  whose  business  it  is  to  cast 

Mortals  in  misery  dumb !" 
"Afraid  of  spectres !"  he  laughed.    "Not  much ! 
I  make  my  living  by  dealing  in  such — 
Black  and  white,  Danish  and  Dutch. 

Sweet  spooks,  I'm  a  medium !" 


UNCLE  NOAH'S  GHOST 


Sylvanus  Cobb,  Jr. 


UNCLE  NOAH  CLAYTON,  with  promise  of  bettering 
his  condition,  moved  his  goods  and  chattels  and  family 
to  a  great  old  house  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  and  not 
until  the  house  had  been  hired  and  his  furniture  deposited 
therein,  was  it  told  to  him  that  it  was  haunted. 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  185 

The  first  night  passed  off  quietly  and  pleasantly;  and  so  did 
the  second;  but,  on  the  third  night,  just  after  midnight,  there 
was  a  ghostly  alarm.  It  came  from  the  direction  of  the  kitchen, 
and  there  was  the  sound  of  breaking  glass,  and  the  shuffling  of 
feet  upon  the  loose  floor-boards.  Both  Mr.  Noah  and  Mrs. 
Noah  sat  up  and  listened. 

Yes — there  was  somebody  in  the  pantry !  Pieces  of  tin  and 
crockery  ware  were  heard  to  tinkle  and  jingle. 

"That's  the  way  these  new-fangled  ghosts  always  do,  Nancy. 
They're  great  for  knocking  around  crockery  and  table-ware !" 

"What'll  you  do,  Noah?" 

"I'm  goin'  to  see  what's  up;  I  never  heard  of  their  hurting 
anybody,  did  you?" 

"No." 

"Then  I'll  take  my  pistol  and  investigate,  sh!  don't  make 
any  noise !" 

By  the  time  Noah  was  ready,  the  two  children  were  up. 

"Hush !  don't  make  a  bit  of  noise,  children." 

"Is  it  a  ghost,  papa?" 

"That's  what  we  want  to  find  out.  Now,  mark,  if  you  follow 
me,  look  out  and  don't  get  in  the  way  of  the  pistol.  You  bring 
the  lamp,  Nancy." 

And  so  the  procession  was  formed,  Noah  in  the  van,  with  his 
pistol  firmly  clutched;  Mrs.  Noah  next,  with  lamp  in  her  left 
hand  and  a  poker  in  her  right;  Master  Tommy  next,  armed 
with  a  bootjack;  while  little  Stephen  brought  up  the  rear,  his 
chubby  hands  clutching  one  of  his  father's  boots.  In  the  hall 
they  were  joined  by  the  hired  girl  and  an  apprentice  boy. 

"Hark !" 

Ah !  the  plates  rattled  again !  and  the  tin-pans  clinked  and 
clanged.  The  servant  girl  screamed  and  would  have  fainted, 
if  Noah  had  not  made  a  motion  toward  her  with  his  pistol 

With  slow  and  cautious  tread,  the  head  of  the  column  reached 
the  kitchen  and  halted  before  the  door  of  the  pantry.  Ah  J 
more  rattling  of  plates ! 

"Who's  there?"  demanded  Noah. 


186  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

The  only  answer  was  a  moaning  of  the  wind — or,  was  it  the 
moaning-  of  a  ghost? 

But  Noah  Clayton  was  not  a  coward,  especially  with  such  a 
backing;  so  he  directed  his  wife  how  to  hold  the  light;  and 
then,  having  seen  that  his  pistol  was  properly  cocked,  he  placed 
his  hand  upon  the  latch. 

Mrs.  Noah  grasped  the  poker  more  firmly,  and  raised  it  into 
ready  position ;  Master  Tommy,  under  cover  of  his  mother,  with 
bootjack  valiantly  advanced,  stood  side  by  side  with  his  smaller 
brother,  and  papa's  boot. 

"Ah — sh ! — There  go  the  plates  again  !  And — now — ha ! — a 
leap  upon  the  floor !  How  curiously  they  tread !  Hold  the 
light,  mother.     A  little  higher — ah — that's  it.     Now  !" 

And  he  threw  open  the  door.  The  fresh  breeze  came  in 
through  a  break  in  the  window;  the  moonbeams  struggled 
through  the  dingy  panes,  and  from  her  place  near  the  center 
of  the  floor  straight  to  them  advanced — the  old  cat,  with  a  fear- 
dispelling  meow ! 


GOBLINS 

\_  

I  AIN'T  afraid  o'  goblins,  I  should  say; 
You  can't  scare  Sam  an'  me,  not  that  a-way. 
Do  you  know  what  goblins  are?    They're  awful  things, 
Dressed  all  in  white,  or  black.     They  don't  have  wings, 
But  they  can  fly  right  through  the  ceilin' ;  then 
They  have  long  arms,  an'  00-00 !  long  claws,  an'  when 
They  grab  a  feller,  off  they  fly,  before 
You've  time  to  yell — 'n'  you  don't  come  back  no  more. 

We  ain't  afraid  o'  goblins,  Sam  an'  me — ■ 

I  ain't,  when  Sam's  around,  an'  Sam  says  he 

Ain't  'f raid  o'  nothing !    Goblins  like  to  keep 

All  night  in  lonesome  graveyards — cre-e-ep  an'  cre-ep 

So  scarey  like — a-listenin5  in  the  dark 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  187 

To  owls  that  hoot  an'  cry,  an'  dogs  that  bark. 

Some  stay  in  garrets  an'  old  houses,  too; 

N'  you  can't  tell  when  they'll  git  you,  till  they  do. 

Most  girls  are  'fraid  o'  goblins.     Sam  an'  me, 

We  ain't,  because  X'll  tell  you  why,  you  see 

That  graveyard  'way  off  yonder  on  the  hill? 

Well,  Sam  he  says,  "Say,  Bill" — Sam  calls  me  "Bill,"— 

"Let's  go  an'  look  for  goblins ;"  so  we  did, 

'Cause  paw  he'd  told  us  how  the  goblins  hid 

Around  among  the  tombstones  cre-epin'  sof, 

Awaitin'  jest  to  carry  fellers  off. 

One  night  we  sneaked  up  close,  an'  gee — mum-ee, 
There  stood  a  white  one  lookin'  at  Sam  an'  me. 
We  wasn't  scared,  not  much.    It  shook  its  head, 
An'  we — we  said  our  prayers,  an'  Sam,  he  said, 
"  'F  'e  gits  me  first  you  tell  maw  what  he  done." 
Then  it  came  creepin'  up — we  couldn't  run, 
We  felt  so  we-ak,  an'  shivered  so — somehow — 
An'  then  it  "mo-o-ed" — 'twas  jist  our  old  white  cow. 


GHOSTS 


Thomas  Carlyle. 


COULD  anything  be  more  miraculous  than  an  actual  au- 
thentic ghost?  The  English  Johnson  longed  all  his  life 
to  see  one,  but  could  not,  though  he  went  to  the  church  vaults, 
and  tapped  on  coffins.  Foolish  doctor !  Did  he  never,  with  the 
mind's  eye  as  well  as  with  the  body's,  look  round  him  into  that 
full  tide  of  human  life  he  so  loved?  Did  he  never  so  much  as 
look  into  himself?  The  good  doctor  was  a  ghost,  as  actual  and 
authentic  as  heart  could  wish ;  well-nigh  a  million  of  ghosts 
were  traveling  the  streets  by  his  side.    Sweep  away  the  illusions 


1 88  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

of  time ;  compress  the  threescore  years  into  three  minutes ;  what 
else  was  he,  what  else  are  we?  Are  we  not  spirits  that  are 
shaped  into  a  body,  into  an  appearance,  and  that  fade  away 
again  into  air  and  invisibility?  This  is  no  metaphor;  it  is  a 
simple  scientific  fact.  We  start  out  of  nothingness,  take  figure, 
and  are  apparitions;  round  us,  as  round  the  veriest  specter,  is 
eternity;  and  to  eternity  minutes  are  as  years  and  aeons.  Come 
there  not  tones  of  love  and  faith,  as  from  celestial  harp-strings, 
like  the  song  of  beatified  souls  ?  And,  again,  do  not  we  squeak 
and  jibber  (in  our  discordant,  screech-owlish  debatings  and  re- 
criminatings),  and  glide  bodeful,  and  feeble,  and  fearful;  or 
uproar,  and  revel  in  our  mad  dance  of  the  dead,  till  the  scent 
of  the  morning  air  summons  us  to  our  still  home;  and  dreamy 
night  becomes  awake  and  day?  Where  now  is  Alexander  of 
Macedon?  Does  the  steel  host,  that  yelled  in  fierce  battle- 
shouts  at  Issus  and  Arbela,  remain  behind  him,  or  have  they  all 
vanished  utterly,  even  as  perturbed  goblins  must?  Napoleon, 
too,  and  his  Moscow  retreats  and  Austerlitz  campaigns !  Was 
it  all  other  than  the  veriest  specter-hunt;  which  has  now,  with 
its  howling  tumult  that  made  night  hideous,  flitted  away? — 
Ghosts !  .There  are  nigh  a  thousand  million  walking  the  earth 
openly  at  noontide;  some  half-hundred  have  vanished  from  it, 
some  half-hundred  have  arisen  in  it,  ere  thy  watch  ticks  once. 

O  Heaven !  it  is  mysterious,  it  is  awful,  to  consider  that  we 
not  only  carry  each  a  future  ghost  within  him,  but  are  in  very 
deed,  ghosts !  These  limbs,  whence  had  we  them ;  this  stormy 
force;  this  lifeblood  with  its  burning  passion?  They  are  dust 
and  shadow ;  a  shadow-system  gathered  round  our  Me ;  wherein, 
through  some  moments  or  years,  the  Divine  Essence  is  to  be 
revealed  in  the  flesh.  That  warrior  on  his  strong  war-horse, 
fire  flashes  through  his  eyes;  force  dwells  in  his  arms  and  heart; 
but  warrior  and  war-horse  are  a  vision, — a  revealed  force, — 
nothing  more.  Stately  they  tread  the  earth  as  if  it  were  a  firm 
substance.  Fool !  The  earth  is  but  a  film ;  it  cracks  in  twain, 
and  warrior  and  war-horse  sink  beyond  plummet's  sounding. 
Plummet's?     Fantasy  herself  will  not  follow  them.     A  little 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  189 

while  ago,  they  were  not;  a  little  while,  and  they  are  not,  their 
very  ashes  are  not. 

So  has  it  been  from  the  beginning,  so  will  it  be  to  the  end. 
Generation  after  generation  takes  to  itself  the  form  of  a  body; 
and  forth-issuing  from  Cimmerian  night,  on  heaven's  mission 
appears.  What  force  and  fire  is  in  each  he  expends :  One 
grinding  in  the  mill  of  industry;  one,  hunter-like,  climbing  the 
giddy  Alpine  heights  of  science;  one  madly  dashed  in  pieces  on 
the  rocks  of  strife,  in  war  with  his  fellow : — and  then  the 
heaven-sent  is  recalled;  his  earthly  vesture  falls  away,  and  soon 
even  to  sense  becomes  a  vanished  shadow.  Thus,  like  some 
wild-flaming,  wild-thundering  train  of  heaven's  artillery,  does 
this  mysterious  Mankind  thunder  and  flame,  in  long-drawn, 
quick-succeeding  grandeur,  through  the  unknown  deep.  Thus, 
like  a  God-created,  fire-breathing  spirit-host,  we  emerge  from 
the  inane;  haste  stormfnlly  across  the  astonished  earth;  then 
plunge  again  into  the  inane.  Earth's  mountains  are  leveled, 
and  her  seas  filled  up,  in  our  passage.  Can  the  earth,  which  is 
but  dead  and  a  vision,  resist  spirits  which  have  reality  and  are 
alive  ?  On  the  hardest  adamant  some  footprint  of  us  is  stamped 
in;  the  last  rear  of  the  host  will  read  traces  of  the  earliest  van. 
But  whence?  O  heaven,  whither?  Sense  knows  not;  faith 
knows  not;  only  that  it  is  through  mystery  to  mystery,  from 
God  and  to  God. 

"We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep!" 


GHOSES  IN  THE  BARN 


Lu  B.  Cake. 


THE  barn's  haunted  loft  is  gloomy  and  still; 
The  spider-webs  cover  the  mold 
Where  sun-arrows  shoot  through  holes  in  the  roof 
And  rafters  are  lined  with  gold. 


1 90  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  31. 

Hist !  harken  to  goblins'  footsteps,  or  wing's  I 

I  hear  them  so  plain,  don't  you? 
The  ghoses  us  children  find  in  the  barn; 

They  flit  around  and  cry,  "Woo,  woo !" 

No,  sir,  it  is  not  the  rats  in  the  mow, 

Nor  noise  of  the  wind  that  moans ; 
They're  ghoses  that's  hauntin'  the  old  barn  loft 

With  awful  screeches  and  groans. 
We  hide  and  we  watch,  all  holdin'  our  breath, 

We  hear  and  we  see  them,  too; 
By  day,  or  by  night,  when  th'  wind's  blowin'  right, 

They  dodge  'round  and  cry,  "Woo,  woo !" 

V 

At  night  they  bewitch  the  horses'  long  manes, 

They  tangle  the  harness  all; 
They  tie  the  halters  in  goblinses'  knots, 

They  let  loose  a  horse  in  a  stall. 
They  swing  in  the  rafters  spider-web  swings, 

They  dance,  and  they  drink  the  dew  ^ 
They  revel  all  night,  and  when  it  is  light, 

They  flit  'round  and  cry,  "Woo,  woo !" 


HOWLING  OF  THE  WITCHES 


Charles  J.  Leland. 


I   SAW  three  witches  as  the  wind  blew  cold, 
In  a  red  light  to  the  lee ; 
Bold  they  were  and  over-bold, 
As  they  sailed  over  the  sea, 
Calling  for  "One,  two,  three !" 
Calling  for  "One,  two,  three  !" 
And  I  think  I  can  hear 
It  a-ringing  in  my  ear, 

A-calling  for  their  "One,  two,  three !" 


HALLOWE'EN  RECITATIONS.  191 

And  clouds  came  over  the  sky, 

And  the  wind  it  blew  hard  and  free ; 
And  the  waves  were  bold,  and  over-bold, 
As  we  sailed  over  the  sea ; 

Howling-  for  their  "One,  two,  three !" 
Howling  for  their  "One,  two,  three!" 
Oh,  I  think  I  can  hear 
It  a-howling  in  my  ear, 

Howling  for  their  "One,  two,  three!" 

And  the  storm  came  roaring  on, 

Such  a  storm  as  I  never  did  see, 
And  the  storm  it  was  bold,  and  over-bold, 
And  as  bad  as  a  storm  could  be ; 
A-roaring  for  its  "One,  two,  three !" 
A-howling  for  its  "One,  two,  three !" 
Oh,  I  think  I  can  hear 
It  a-howling  in  my  ear, 

Howling  for  its  "One,  two;  three !" 

And  a  wave  came  over  the  deck, 

As  big  as  a  wave  could  be, 
And  it  took  away  the  captain,  and  the  mate 
and  a  man; 
It  had  got  the  "One,  two,  three !" 
It  had  got  the  "One,  two,  three !" 
And  it  kept  the  "One,  two,  three !" 
Oh,  I  think  I  can  hear 
It  a-rolling  in  my  ear, 

As  it  went  with  the  "One,  two,  three !" 


No  sort  of  fun  can  compare  with  fun  of  Hallowe'en, 

When  boys  and  girls,  all  in  a  craze, 

Run  pell-mell  as  though  chased  by  bears. 

There's  fun  in  other  things,  but  Hallowe'en  best  suits  me. 


192  WERNER'S  READINGS  NO.  SI. 

DANCE  OF  THE  DEAD. 


Johann  Wolfgang  von  Goethe. 


THE  sexton  looked  forth,  at  the  mid  hour  of  night, 
O'er  the  tombs  where  the  dead  were  reclining; 
The  moon,  at  its  full,  gave  a  great,  ghostly  light, 

And  the  churchyard  as  day  was  shining. 
First  one,  then  another — oh,  terrible  sight ! — 
Each  grave  opened  wide,  and,  in  gowns  long  and  white, 
The  dead  all  arose  from  their  sleeping, 
Round  the  tombs  grimly  dancing  and  leaping. 

In  a  skeleton  ring,  then,  together  they  hung, 

While  they  danced  as  the  waves  of  the  ocean — 
The  poor  and  the  rich,  and  the  old  and  the  young— 

But  their  grave-clothes  hindered  their  motion; 
And,  as  here  no  modesty  held  its  broad  sway, 
They  all  shook  them  off,  and  around  them  there  lay 

Their  winding  sheets,  here  and  there  scattered, 

And  they  naked — but  that  little  mattered. 
In  a  frenzy  of  joy  then  they  swung  their  long  shanks, 

Their  long  fingers  in  unison  snapping, 
And  they  clicked  and  clacked  as  they  played  wild  pranks, 

As  though  timber  on  timber  were  clapping. 
At  last  it  was  o'er,  and  the  skeleton  crowd, 
One  after  another,  each  slipped  on  its  shroud; 

Then  into  their  cold  graves  they  glided, 

And  silence  once  more  presided. 


JACK-O'-LANTERN. 


Thomas  N.  Weaver. 


HERE  comes  a  jack-o'-lantern,  to  frighten  us  to-night, 
Made  from  a  hollow  pumpkin,  with  candle  in  for  light. 

He  sits  there  on  our  window,  with  eyes  so  large  and  bright, 
Oh,  if  he's  some  big  lion,  that  broke  his  cage  to-night! 
I'll  go  a  little  closer,  just  slip  up,  very  slow; 
Oh,  there's  a  little  bonnet  and  dress  I  surely  know. 
Come  in,  you  little  Jacko,  and  bring  your  pumpkin,  too ; 
When  you  first  came  I  trembled,  but  now  I  know  it's  you. 


